Drop a dream into the water,
In a moment it is gone.
But there are many ripples,
Circling on and on....
...
The last leaf on the tree,
Is the strongest of them all.
Resisting frosts and winds,
So determined not to fall.
...
The shouts of children playing,
Bring back my happy youth.
To recall the time I was ten,
And lost a good front tooth.
...
In a poet's book,
Poetry is king.
Poems of hope,
Are revealed within
...
A tall white Birch reared its stately form,
High in the path of the oncoming storm.
Its long, lacy leaves, in sad disarray,
Tangled and knotted with each swing and sway.
...
On the golden fields of Heaven,
In the shade of immortal white towers.
By life's clear river dwelling,
And amid undying flowers.
...
Miss Goody Two Shoes.
No, not that one teen paedophile slicing slaughterhouse.
She's out of the country.
She's teamed up with The Lady Killer.
...
I gift to you,
A soothing dream.
A dream to cherish,
A dream to gleam.
...
Prim and ever so proper,
Almost posh but very polite.
Tidy and so well presented,
Each visitor a welcome delight.
...
Poor, lone, Emma.
Old, faded and wrinkled.
Bright eyed beauty once was she,
When the bloom was on the tree.
...
A single blade of grass,
Amid many a tall bluebell.
Here in nature's woodland,
What stories can it tell.
...
'The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears,
The figure that she carries,
Or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman is seen in her eyes,
...
The Moon Queen sails,
Throughout the night,
With stars that shine,
And give her light.
...
Will your poem stand the test of time?
It has to be good it doesn't have to rhyme.
Some people think of writing one,
Simply take your time it can be done.
...
Hidden deep in the woodlands,
Close to where a river flows.
There dwells a secret kingdom,
With a fairytale to disclose...
...
Oh! Days to be long as centuries,
Of time there is never enough.
To present perfect polished poems,
Simply to smooth over the rough.
...
What do you see nurse, what do you see?
What are you thinking when you're looking at me?
A crabbit old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
...
Whiter than white,
Purer than snow.
A virginal saint,
You'd like to know.
...
This chair in which I sit in,
This chair so soft and square.
This chair in which I dream in,
Can take me places anywhere.
...
You clarion not friendships broken,
To you ill-will is never spoken.
You love all and all love you,
It's all the good we see in you.
...
Inspire Me
Drop a dream into the water,
In a moment it is gone.
But there are many ripples,
Circling on and on....
When facing life's many worries,
All storms you will pass through.
You will garnish many strengths,
And new found courage too.
You have often felt trapped,
And so dreamed of being free.
You will fulfil your potential,
To become who you want to be.
For no goal worth attaining,
Is ever easy to achieve.
It takes work and dedication,
And the power to believe.
Believe in yourself.
Simply believe.
Copyright Shaun Cronick 1996. All Rights Reserved.
amazing poem, thanks, we all waiting for more amazing work from you, well done thanks
Brilliant very talented, very thoughtful and meaningful. Shaun is a wonderful man well done
Shaun Cronick takes poetry to places only he knows. As readers we are indebted.
SHAUN CRONICK is a wonderful and brilliant Poet who has a beautiful mind and heart.. His poetry carries the Torch of Love, Wisdom and Insight. He sows seeds of kindness through his eloquently expressed poems.
A fitting tribute to a woman of exemplary beauty, the personification of class. An excellent poem and so lovely to read.
Esteemed poet Shaun Cronick is a very talented poet of Poem Hunter. He deserves his place among some of the best poets. I wish he should continue his poetic journey sans bothering any place or position. I feel he values his personality more than anything else. Wish him a very formative and bright literary journey in the remaining part of his career.
I meant to say Shaun is a very talented poet and a very witty one at that!
Such a talented writer who has the wonderful ability to describe something in so few words and yet absolutely capture the emotion perfectly! Always a joy to read!
May you and the loved ones around you live a long life filled with virtue.I wish you the best this life has to offer.Take care.
Poets are lost, dark devils but see with the eyes of saving angels.
Welsh is the language of Heaven in which you speak with angels to.God made a terrible mistake, forgetting to name the earth Cymru.
My mother told me when I was twelve years old...'There are many writers who follow their mind and they write instinctively and there are writers who follow their heart and they write majestically.Always follow your heart shaun.Always.'
Near the end of Manon Des Sources Yves Montand's reaction to the old woman's revealing truths.That is emotion brilliantly captured and portrayed.If a poet can bottle that emotion and put it down on paper then they are truly Blessed.
My mother told me...'You need to learn about Pandora's Jar.' I replied don't you mean Pandora's Box? My mother replied 'That is why you need to learn.'
I can be a real horse's arse sometimes...Ask around.
My father taught me how to box when I was a kid.He toughened me up.Basically, he didn't want a candyarse growing up in the household.
When I write.I don't think outside the box.I think outside the box-making factory.
I always write in blue.It's more memorable than black.My car however, is black.When driving I like to keep a low profile.
Push yourself when writing! Push yourself! A poem, a screenplay, a love letter, an angry letter to your MP, a note for the milkman.Push yourself! That old adage of 'go the extra mile.' Bollocks to that! Go the extra light-year.Push yourself!
Poetry like life can leave a never-ending trail of mended or broken hearts.
I'm not a vulgar wine snob.I'm a vulgar tea snob.I cherish a damn good cup of Assam tea.Then I review it.Sometimes I even drink it.
When it comes to keeping secrets I believe in...'Three people can keep a secret.Providing two of them are dead.'
Ella Wheeler Wilcox is and forever will be my favourite poet.
Today's technology isn't good or evil.It's how it's used.Like the Death Ray.
If you torture dignity.It will confess to nothing.
Love can sparkle, Love can shine. And when Love is shared, Love is sublime.
Fasten your seat belts, it's going to be a bumpy ride!
Ella Wheeler Wilcox is my dearest and greatest friend in time.
I love to write a dark creepy poem now and again. It helps being Catholic. Just think of all the good then simply reverse it and bob's your uncle. Your dark creepy uncle. Who on the stroke of midnight disappears into the woodshed. What's he up to? ...There I go again.
Nature soothes the mind and nourishes the heart.
Shaun Cronick of the United Kingdom is a fabulous poet who brings and provides pleasure to the table. Poetry is blessed to have him. His poems capture the essence of both love and life. I am delighted to learn from his wonderful works.... Bernard F. Asuncion