Stephen Harris

Stephen Harris Poems

Who was I
I was the gentle breeze that touched the trembling leaf
The violent storm that broke the stubborn bough
A lover's breath on Heathcliff's heath

Songbirds singing
Under blue skies
While busy bees raid
Trembling flowers

I lit a candle in memory of your loss.
A solitary sentinel that held its torch high,
burning bright for the child that so briefly lived.
And so I sat in silent vigil of heartfelt hurt,

The nights full moon calls Morrighan wake
And spirit soar with wild wolfs howl
That echoes through vale and dale to star.
Let her stir before Cerridwens wane

A lad who skipped science at school
Charred his fingers while handling hot fuel
For he wanted to know
If coals burned when aglow

Quietly tears flow
For the love of a mother
Distantly dying
Many questions unanswered

Prepare the horse and chariot
Paint your body blue with woad
And take your oaken battle shield
The quench hardened iron sword

You were born an emerald among thistles.
Vulnerable to the eye, yet destined to fly with angels.
Your soft bristles promise the cold, a poisonous flame,
That will burn and will blaze till you own a new name.

Sometimes when I doze between worlds real and unreal
A dream of recurring nightmare performs before my mind
Where all the stars slip in unison with shifting poles
And brimstone burns fiery sulphur, scorching skies.

I know I have no model look
with fingernails and hair untrimmed
and creak these days with each step took
With overuse my lustres dimmed

I know the window cleaner thinks that Im a tease
He always seems to find me naked on my knees
Pretending not to notice he cleans away the dirt
And sets his face to marble, unhappy with this flirt

Thunder appeared, nearby a train tooted,
The night lights were lit in the square.
While one owl twitted, another one hooted,
And the pink moon hung high in the air.

Horizons promise sunset peach,
A pleasant night on pebbled beach
With lapping lull of sleepy tide
And branches low for me to hide

Let us leisurely walk in the Mexican sun
And pause on the path by that old, mismatched wall
With sandy arched door that sits sunken in stone
Embossed with some sea waves and holy writ scroll

I was lost and lonely among a crowd
And not wishing to be, or to talk, or be found.
Without zest for life, I existed not living
Exhausted and tired in spite of my sleeping.

A brooding dark and turbulent sky
That lingered nigh with Noah's storm
Tornado's lash was looming high
By broken battered home well worn

Radiant rays of suns outstretched arms touch
Coursing clouds of clementine and blushing pink,
Burning bright with its dimming and dripping gold
of bling, that is burnished by heavens soft hands

Shadow boy points to sky
And through ripples touches twins
Colourful watery muse
Bending down

She captures the eye and my heart does the flower
That sways like a lily on watery breeze
On ocean of green floats my rose petalled bower
With sun glowing clusters on soft leafy seas

Not noted for its pleasant song
too common midst the garden throng
Not like the finch with gold wing flair
Few take the time to see him there

Stephen Harris Biography

Firstly hello to any who have taken the time to look at this. A brief note on myself. Im a train driver in the north of England, I have three children (2 daughters and one son) and a wonderful partner called Kaz who has through the last 20 years shown me so much love and in many ways taught me how to live. I have many good friends but I have one who is an inspiration to me in many ways and that is a lady called Sammie who is very precious to me. If I can put a smile on someones face from what I have written or add a little sunshine, it would make me very happy.)

The Best Poem Of Stephen Harris


Who was I
I was the gentle breeze that touched the trembling leaf
The violent storm that broke the stubborn bough
A lover's breath on Heathcliff's heath
That loved and lost and loved somehow.

Stephen Harris Comments

Dr Dillip K Swain 12 July 2021

A wonderful poet who loves to pen freely. His poems carry values and substances. I love his poetry. Best

1 0 Reply
Samsara White 11 April 2021

' Once upon a time ', somebody will come along

0 0 Reply

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