R. H. Peat

R. H. Peat Poems

In The Chinese Restaurant

Before the meal,
water and green tea are served.

Forgotten Embroidery (Form: A Stichic)

Your blouse—I have it
right here

A Shoe Beside The Bed

All night long
with a film on the sills

Your spirit holds me near in lift and fall
it takes my breath away with each embrace;
In laughing wind and graceful sky we dance
and I'm a clumsy bear within the fog.

Every Moment Touches

The westward daisies remember the little boy;
he stands by the flaking side of the tan house

A Smiling Star

She says she sees a smiling star inside
the canopy of tangled trees, and I


Every oak will lose a leaf to the wind.
Every star-thistle has a thorn.

Crows In the Snow

All day around this slim wooden box
they have slowly gathered like frail

Flying Fingers (Ode to the Guitarist)

Soft sounds written in naked sky,
the alphabets of beetles, tiger moths, and

The Note
There is a longing in her remote look
remembering the taste of raspberries,
ripened and red upon her wet tongue.

A Red Leaf For Lloyd

within a harsh sky

Spirits Terrify
(A Pindaric triad)



Unseen, watching you;
you sing to yourself.

Ocean Depths

This tide from the past reappears
in the moment, and the Ocean

Dead Fish Laughing

Post Op. fried-egg and sliced-ham

Enigmatic: Dead Polar Bear

I.) The polar-bear is black beneath transparent hair,
each blueberry conceals a pentagon on its bottom,

A Fawn in Days

The fawn is dead upon the emerald
field where milky narcissus bloom

Mother's Dark House (A Dirge)

Smooth and white as a neatly quilted bed,
Sheeted silence glistened sheer and pristine;

Let's Enjoy the Journey:

You stopped me on the tracks;
I slipped on the butter —

What's Left Behind

All the trips have been made
between the house

R. H. Peat Biography

Retired now. Short Poetry Bio: RH PEAT, is 80, lives in California; He's been published in the USA, New Zealand, India, England, Canada, and Japan. He's taught workshops and operated poetry readings. He operates a poetry workshop on " writers forums.com" with writers from 5 different countries. He is published Regularly in Anthologies internationally. He has operated poetry readings and public workshops and has read his work on Radio and Television. a poet friend RH Peat)

The Best Poem Of R. H. Peat

In The Chinese Restaurant

In The Chinese Restaurant

Before the meal,
water and green tea are served.

Then house fried rice,
sweet and sour pork
are set on the table
to obtain fulfillment.

With the bill
a fortune cookie.

This is where it gets strange;
the cookie had no fortune.

Suddenly she was like a child
with a broken toy, crying.
With no sea winds
nothing fills the sails on her boat.
Lost on an ocean and no land in sight,
capsized she drowns.

She felt cheated;
indignant, she demands another.

Is one fortune better than another
if she has no fortune?

It's terrible when the child is
smarter than the parent.
The child inside wants to walk.
No matter how many times she falls
she pulls herself upright,
eager to try again.

Wanting difficulty when
the answer is before you
is closing the eyes
to wonder why you cannot see.

The bill is yet to be paid.

© RH.Peat — 3/4/99 — Rewrite 2/24/2008
Form: syllabic meter stanza patterns - Pindaric triad
3 parts - 7 stanzas - 20 lines
Published: England: Poetic Bond V Pg.102
Willowdown Books 2015

R. H. Peat Comments

R. H. Peat 21 September 2017

Dah I had no idea you posted this in 2012. I haven't been on here for quite some time, but I didn't think it was that long ago. I had my MS returned the other day have sent it out again. It will probably be Dec or next year before I hear something back. a poet friend RH Peat

0 0 Reply
Dah Helmer 26 October 2012

I miss you, my spiritual brother. I have out of touch with everybody and everything. Working myself to the bones on Book Four while waiting for Book Three to be published. Peace and Light, dah

2 0 Reply

R. H. Peat Quotes

Our share of night to bear — Our share of morning — Our blank of bliss to fill Our blank in Scorning — Here a star, and there a star, Some lose their way! Her A mist and there a mist Afterwars — Day! by Emily Dickinson

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