Paul Gerard Reed
Biography of Paul Gerard Reed
All my poems since 2010 are on poemsforlifebypaul.blogspot.com.
I wrote 365 poems between October 2010 and 2011.
I would like to write over 1,000 poems but as I have found numerical challenges usually reduce the quality (if there was any to begin with) .
Inspirations - all poets with a feeling for nature and 'insignificant' things that are actually significant.
Motivations - to express emotions, make people laugh or otherwise connect with the writing emotionally.
Paul Gerard Reed Poems
When the evening breeze Ruffled the leaves in the half-light I felt the greatness in the air, Just standing there;
The time back then cannot be found, Did I ever really live in those days? The images in my mind are bound By a somnolent, ghostly haze;
Time has grown over these plots Of broken down plinths And ragged headstones With their faded engraving
Call To Arms
I am called to arms A thousand times a day To wage this war; And each time I must emerge
The Pit Pony
I found out with sadness about your plight Your life lived in perpetual night An underground stable was where you roomed An innocent life entombed
The Day Is Nearly Done
The day is nearly done Unblemished by the works of human hand With gentle push, the sun slips ever lower Beneath horizons, below hilltops, behind houses,
Wish The Day Away
The fingers of the clock Would not move around the face Time seemed to be endless As we gazed out into space
A March Morning
Everything is ready As I take the morning air Everything is in front of me As Spring begins it’s repair
I leave to you everything…. The sunny days When joy runs through your veins; The view from the mountain top
We wandered by the boating lake On a Sunday afternoon With crocuses fringing pathways For the daffodils just too soon
Here they stand, in long lines Shoulder pressed to shoulder, Unmoving, patient, steady Waiting for the fire of human knowledge
Tyne Valley Mist
The ground was slumbering Beneath your chilly wrapping Absorbing the sun's bounty Fiery energy sapping;
We are sitting on the ridge Looking down at our youth Which lies forlorn in the valley; We have burnt each bridge
Your Time Is Yet To Come
In a sudden moment A calmness descends And the war with Winter is assuaged, The waves cease to crash
Summer Has Gone
We trod with muddy shoes
Amongst autumn's new-won hues
As the slate grey sea boiled and churned
Clover and thistle at our feet
Had replaced buttercup sweet
'Alas! the frail Summer has turned'
What hopes we had for tomorrow
Now washed through with sorrow