nicholas chapman Poems

What is this thing we see like weird fruit on our trees,
Hedges fields and roadways, filled with the objects of our lives,
Strange shapes on the beach, odd colours in the pools, gathering after the tide.
Looking so miss matched amongst the greens and browns of our beautiful beach,
...

The Stream

Like golden hair the waters flow around the rocks in the stream,
Bubbling, cascading, painting silky curves in the calm waters of a dream,
...

The Beach
Walking along the golden sands peoples bronzed bodies everywhere,
Laying, sitting, swimming, all acting as if they've not a single care,
A mental aphrodisiac sweeping away the troubles of a working day,
...

Just a Feelin

To dream
Of white soft sensual skin
...