Bob Blackwell

Rookie - 0 Points (29/5/1936 / Wales)

My Reverie - Poem by Bob Blackwell

I was dreaming, the sun was warm,
the bright green grass was comforting.
I could see pretty yellow flowers, hear
the champagne stream rippling by,
over head the trees met to form an
avenue over water unhurried, bit by
bit it slowly moves, mottled shadows
shift on the leisurely moving stream.

I lie besides that brook that bubbled,
relaxed without any care, so happy
gazing at the blue and cloudless sky.
I was comforted by the thought that
simple pleasures like this are free,
no entrance fee to enjoy natural
splendours of mother natures charm;
available always free of charge for all.

I smell the winds flowery perfume,
scent from natures blossoms fill my
heart my soul, I am at peace in the
lovely landscape, my minds journey
of pictures of calm, birds singing,
warm soothing colours, natures hush
a whisper, silence rules, there is a
peace so complete its settled down.

Later my minds eye got disturbed
I heard angry flashes of gunfire,
many aeroplanes, missiles fired;
my mothers cries, the music stop,
the laughter gone away, the tears,
peoples screams bombard my head.
I try to regain the peace I had,
but war keeps getting in my way.

The air was cold, I felt shivers run,
I trembled, sky now a darker black,
my cities life silhouetted, outline
smashed, too many gaps, a broken
spiky skyline of blackened shadows;
a charcoal drawing of a tragic scene.
No sun, no colour, just blackened grey.
All warmth now gone, just sadness left.

My ears still ring, small fires still burn,
There are bodies lying, broken, scarred.
my arm hurts, headaches, leg bleeding,
feel lost and disorientated, miss family.
I stifle back the tears, be brave I say.
As I lie unable to move, I remember that
when they fell I was walking down street,
how explosion pinned me to the ground.

Trapped unable to move, I drift again
into my reverie, my flight to calm. My
escape and freedom from a world at war.
A gun fires, I hear the shot, a man dies,
a poppy grows, a field of poppies from
all the wars before, colour red fills mind,
it is the blood of many lives, past wars,
future conflicts, killing’s, more lost lives.

I reflect in my reverie how our world
needs a landscape of love to care for,
mountains of hope and rivers that flow
with understanding to feed only oceans
of peace, happiness and tranquillity;
before the rivulets of mans mind turns
once more to love and sharing to solve
mans inhumanity to his fellow man.

I try to regain the peace I had,
but war keeps getting in my way.

Comments about My Reverie by Bob Blackwell

  • (5/9/2011 8:09:00 AM)

    I like it. You have described it very well. Vivid imagery and remarkable style. Great write. I rate it 10.
    Thanks for sharing.....
    Please read and rate my poem 'A humble complaint' on page 2. Please use the search box by typing the name of the poem if the page doesn't open with the title of the poem.
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 9, 2011

Poem Edited: Monday, May 9, 2011

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