Ruth Walters

Ruth Walters Poems

Who's there?
walking among my memories
tripping over cells of humour
falling on old war wounds.

The perfect day sits in old photographs
on mantlepieces and console tables
but it was never really perfect.
Moments of it may have been,

I don't like cabbages,
despise lumpy mattresses
and men that wield control with glee,
or cats that purloin my favourite seat,

Recycled teenager

The teenager was looking jaded,
all those late nights,

Miss Jeffries was cold,
like a dry, stale turkey sandwich.
She was always in a foul mood,
curling up at the edges.

He lived next door, so quietly,
with sour face and manners,
always pottering about
at dark, unearthly hours.

I watch my grand-daughter
as she looks up at the sky.
'Tiny aer-o-p'anes' she squeals.

I bought a tiny, dainty clock,
(tick tock, tick tock goes my little clock)
but it doesn't tell the time a lot
though it gives my hall a tiny heart

He told me things would get better,
swore he'd make life okay,
pledged to toss out his errant ways
and stay home from the pub for a change,

The green socks always
looked cute,
were always together,
neat and paired.

This box is empty.
No sweets or hidden letters,
or children's toys or
tools left behind by kind shelf fitters.

Algebra brought out the inquisitive side of me,
inquiring and curious.
I wondered if Y felt ‘hot' and mysterious
or if Y was rebellious and mean

1st hour
In the hour before work,
she bathes her children,

He was multi layered,
peel back the first
and you thirsted for more.
Underneath was a great sauce,

Ruth Walters Biography

They spat me out one winters day, I had no choice, I had no say so pull a chair up, join me do and I might write a rhyme or two.)

The Best Poem Of Ruth Walters

No Trespassing

Who's there?
walking among my memories
tripping over cells of humour
falling on old war wounds.

Who's there?
Mind where you tread, old thing,
these are my nerve endings,
my memories of past events.

Shoes off,
when you step inside my brain,
reading my verses, pinging my emotions.
This is my property, take care.

Don't squash
the frontal lobe!
I may look passive but I bite.
Be gentle on my mind.

Who's there?
Stop, trespasser, hooligan,
be quiet when you come in here
and take your hat off!

Ruth Walters Comments

James Mclain 04 May 2020

Just a fantastic poet and Well rounded in her pursuit of her Great prose.

0 0 Reply
Kumarmani Mahakul 03 October 2018

On behalf of all fellow poets, PH family and our Mahakul family we offer a title of honour to poetess Ruth Walters as, Flowery Sunrise. From today on-wards she will be known as Flowery Sunrise Ruth Walters. This title of honour is offered to her due to her outstanding contribution to the world literature and her high standard poetic perseverance. We hope all poets and visitors will like this.

2 0 Reply
Karen Sinclair 05 July 2012

No awkwardness just sheer smooth reality and\or humour leaves the pages of Ruth Walters...A Great Poet! and a rarity in woman as she is really funny when she wants to be...

5 3 Reply
Danny H 06 August 2009

Your an amazing poetess :) Your poetry is brought alive in front of the face, and shows all the possible colors.

6 2 Reply

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