peter rodenby

peter rodenby Poems

Some images of a forgotten past
I had no part of
Now scattered on table and floor
surrounded with tears of remembrances.

Call of lone curlew
turn down beak
outspread wings
resting on air.

Weave your hair in sun silk waves
Twirl seaweed in tiny hands
Caress your breasts
with salty sea

Blue sky, blue clouds, blue morning
The sun and snow
Silent slipping sleet
Foot prints dissolve

Rhythmic tapping of shoes
Ascending a hillside pathway
Following a sheep ragged track
But seeming like impenetrable steps

A screaming wind unfastened our grip
Aching we clung, desperately embracing,
Breathing like one.
A tear trickled and twinkled

Her tears

It was that time of year
towards end of summer
lately leaves fall
with barely a breath of wind

The past
is pressed flowers
between pages

Eyes don’t tell lies in the dark
Faces smile, lovingly close,
no need for conversation,
seeking each others lips.

Inside my Rainbow

The Miracle

There was such a crowd
so many

The mainland
string of sodium
shadow in misty rain
no more

I played dominoes with my grandson
His last year I played dominoes with my father
My grandsons dominoes had animals on their faces
My father’s were the traditional kind

Flash of flight
Woodpeckers have returned
I have seen them!
Last year a garden was favoured

First frost fears
Approach winter
Leaves uncharted
Single flight gliders


Rose petals
tinged with decay
in the final threads

Captured image of farming folk
A different generation
Two brothers

Tender arms, yesterday
reach out, beyond my prison
they long to embrace me
resurrect the past

Lying in my arms apparently contented
you do not fidget or struggle,
water soothes, fascinates
no temptations to jump,

peter rodenby Biography

These poems mean a great deal to me. They span the greatest period of my life and when I read them they stir memories and feelings that represent all that I have been. I have always considered them the best part of me. In some respects that’s a little disturbing because if they are rubbish and people find them so, then I must except that my life has been a failure. Some were written when I was a teenager, some as a lover, some as married man, some as a father.Some as a retired person beginning a new life, with a new partner in an old cottage in the country where I am trying to become a writer. Some just for the experience, some were called “The Waiting Years” Initially because those poems span a period from when I started the pursuit of knowledge – I began studying for a degree with the Open University. I hoped it would bring me academic and professional acceptance and an improvement in career prospects, more money and a better way of life. I believed hard work, sustained study long term commitment (something I found impossible to achieve in early life) would ultimately lead to the golden path and the prize. Sometime ago I discovered I was wrong, it has cost a great deal more and I’m still waiting. These poems and short meanderings are moments away from studying and work. I now realize that I have been waiting all my life. What have I been waiting for? You the reader must work that out for your selves. I give you the poems you are the final judge. Peter Rodenby St Johns Chapel)

The Best Poem Of peter rodenby

Photographs Of A Personel History

Some images of a forgotten past
I had no part of
Now scattered on table and floor
surrounded with tears of remembrances.
Times before I knew you.
I am not there!
as you are absent
from my missing photographs,
Images that do not fade with memories
or conceal the sorrow of secrets
without words.

peter rodenby Comments

halle 18 October 2018

thanks for that I been lonely for the past week.x

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