Reginald Reid
Reginald Reid Poems
THE SILENCE OF SOLITUDE
In the silence of my solitude my mind is free to dream,
To contemplate the things that were, that are, and those that might have been.
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THE SPEED OF LIFE
Astronomers talk of the speed of light.
They never mention the speed of night,
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THIS ANCIENT GARDEN
Come see the glory of Australia, a great and modern land,
One rich in old world history with a future no man planned.
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TIMES
I have seen the seasons come and go,
Watched the waters ebb and flow,
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WHEN I'M GONE
Lay me down to die up on the hills amongst the clouds.
Let the mist caress my skin unhindered by sad shrouds.
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MEMORIES
How can my mind ever stem the flow of memories?
Those memories, which now like a torrent surge so powerfully reviving past times denied, ignored,
awoken by some trivial or dramatic event that heralds the arrival of some past hidden treasure, or doom.
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Have you been there in the early morning
when the sun has been unseen the longest time,
when the air is coldest and you must leave your bed
while birds are waking and calling?
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Coxs River
I can hear the water running over rocks and logs and spills
Assembling a torrent that has trickled from the hills
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A NEW TREE FOR EVERY DAY
Beneath the trees upon the ground
Dead branches leaves and twigs abound
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Always a song
Here in my body beats the rhythm of life.
Known before I was born as the signal of good
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AUTUMN MORNING
Serene clouds stir in the valley's misty dawn
bathed in curling fog and breeze
while silently from slumbering valleys
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City Views
Mirrored glass canyons windswept in the shadows
Smokers skulking in doorways their dependence so hollow
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BIRDS
A rounded young fellow known as Franklin the finch
Who measured his stature in terms of an inch
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DESPERATE DAN
Up over the rise and down the hill
Four and ten horsemen came riding still
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At Your Age
Don't you just hate it when they say "At your Age"
Yes, AT YOUR AGE you should just expect these sorts of things to happen
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HOW SHOULD A MAN MEASURE HIS LIFE
How should a man measure his life?
Did he live it alone or share with a wife
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END OF DAY
Sunset shades of orange, bronze and gold
tinged with fading softest blue
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AUTUMN MORNING
Serene clouds stir in the valley's misty dawn
bathed in curling fog and breeze
while silently from slumbering valleys
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The Best Poem Of Reginald Reid
The Sanctuary Of Solitude
THE SILENCE OF SOLITUDE
In the silence of my solitude my mind is free to dream,
To contemplate the things that were, that are, and those that might have been.
While a life yet still to come which I have never seen seems tentative at best
Stirring up a future hope from which I never rest.
For memory is part of life and dreams of future speak,
But in the now my soul resides in a body strong and weak.
In my body works the weakest frailty of men and it may lay me low
To steal away the freedom we call life as we daily come and go.
When we do and say the things that make us what we are
Naked truth in action, unblemished or with scar.
Where we seek the touch of love's forgiving soft caress
The refuge of all lives set free of loneliness.
My mind can see so clearly in the still and rest of peace
The many deeds of men that daily never cease,
The good, the bad, the selfish and societal conformed.
But I must contemplate my life since the day that I was born.
For I am far from blameless in so many varied ways,
And shall be ever still until my dying days.
Even in my solitude with secrets I don't share
I need to know that somewhere close there's someone who does care.
I crave to feel that comfort of someone holding hands
Secure within the knowledge that there's nought I can't withstand.
Grateful for the one who sees me in my need, for we are all the same
When finally The Reaper comes to make his mournful claim.
Here in the silence of my solitude, my refuge and tormentor,
I must face myself alone without a friend or mentor.
No one can hear the words or set my spirit free,
No one can share the happiness no one but me, but me.
And shall I ever be allowed to open up my soul?
Perhaps I will upon the day that we are all made whole.
Here in my solitude I know love, anger and loss
As I draw from my wells of joy, and resent my failure's cost.
Reflection, fulfilment, and memories reside for me
Here in my safe place where unspoken words fly free.
And I must wait until the end of time for me
To know the sense of what it was to live reality.
Reginald Reid Comments
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4/27/2024 2:29:55 AM # 1.0.0.1119
