Silent we stand, silent we fall,
Hardwired not to let tears touch our cheek,
Soldiering through life, answering the call,
Strength in our hearts, yet feeling so weak.

Years unfurl, our vigor wanes,
Age reveals the struggle clear,
What once was sturdy, now pain remains,
In those twilight years, silent fear.

We laugh off hurt, a joke to many,
But inside, the turmoil brews,
Men’s...

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We walk along magenta paths,

Where twilight coolness gently bathes our steps,
The laden vines, in clusters, hang low,
Teasing with a promise, sweet, yet sharp to taste,
In another’s golden field,
Silken amber honey flows.

In memory’s reverie, we trace the lines
Of Thomas Chatterton, whose fate entwines
With fleeting years and early twilight’s end,
A poe...

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In the quiet aftermath, the word "quit" echoes,  

A heavy silence in the corridors of memory.  

A single word, a door to myriad pathways,  

Each avenue intertwining, meandering through the fog.

Clues lie hidden in the shadows cast by our verses,  

Fleeting glimpses of understanding,  

Yet certainty eludes us, at every turn it seems:

Answers remain just out of reach.

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Poets traverse land and sea,  

Exploring known reality.  

In words exchanged, new dreams take flight,  

Imagined realms ignite.

Dialogues unfold, thoughts expand,  

Souls and words in gentle hands.  

A marriage of minds begins to bloom,  

Where dreams find room.

Thought and spirit intersect true,  

Awareness melding in unified view.  

Neural pulses...

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Welcome mates to Pirate's Cove 

Warm yourselves, come by the stove 

Tell us now, your journeys bold; 

Of maiden's fair and coins of gold.

Regale us with tales of distant lands, 

Of battles fought on shifting sands, 

Of treasure maps and secret caves, 

Of briny seas and stormy waves.

Share the legends, both old and new, 

Of gallant ships and loyal crew, 

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A no longer quite fresh season continues,  

Yet hope remains, its breath entwines,  

In days now past, a prodigal to poetry,  

Returning to seek what heart and mind incline.

These days have found me once adrift,  

In the vast and boundless online sea,  

Where words and thoughts, like ships, traverse,  

Crossing in the nightscape, setting spirits free.

...

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In Tarbolton's hall, steps were taught,  

Burns learned with grace, his heart yearning.  

Gregg's skilled hands urged him to soar,  

The fiddle's song guiding each move.

The Bachelor's Club became a place of cheer,  

Burns and Gregg dedicated their time,  

Refining steps and thoughts together,  

In dance and music, their spirits intertwined.

From Alloway to G...

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On the 14th of November, Gordon sails away, 

To the distant land of Australia, bound for Adelaide's bay. 

With dreams of new horizons, beneath the southern sky, 

He leaves behind old England, bidding the past goodbye.

The ship cuts through the waters, waves crash against its bow, 

Gordon stands on deck, sporting a determined brow. 

Adventure stirs within him, a p...

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My grandfather served in the Pacific Theatre of WWII and I had the opportunity of living in the Flanders for a season. The potato incident was also factual and forms the core basis of this prose poem.

Patrick’s fascination with history drew him to Europe, to the Flanders region where echoes of the Great War linger. In the fields and paths, he traced the steps of soldiers, thoughts fil...

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On this solemn day, we gather here,  

Honouring those who faced their deepest fear.  

Of sacrifices, humble, bold and true,  

The dividends of their courage, aren't shy nor few.

In Flanders fields, where poppies blow,  

The echoes of their valour, we stil know.  

As Sassoon and Owen once did write,  

Of youth and loss in the dimmest light.

"The Soldier" Bro...

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Was approached rather directly by a young & emerging poet about the craft & its process, out came this admonition that covers quite a spread of the territory; it’s far from being the be-all & end-all.
 

1. Keep Writing, Whatever Comes

Just keep writing, day by day,

Let words fall out, however they may.

The ink will guide you, though unsure,

In every line, a voice grows pu...

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I know it’s a bit lame, but here I stay,  

Hoping for a nod, a word, some say.  

Responses to my poems, thin but kind,  

They bring a warmth, a solace to my mind.

In every comment, human touch I find,  

A thread that weaves me closer to mankind.  

It's not much, yet it keeps my spirit bright,  

My daily dose of human touch each night.

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Into a new dark age we go,
Marching with voices loud and clear,
The terrain shifts, our minds untrained,
Pioneers of a vast unexplored,
Where challenges hide in the unseen,
And bright lights beckon, waiting for us.

The condition of our hearts has changed,
As we careen through shadows and light,
Year upon year, we seek to define
The darknesses that loom on our horizon,
Searching for m...

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If I could relive a single day,  
It would be one wrapped in golden light,  
The morning sun, a gentle ray,  
Soft whispers in the air, pure delight.  

With laughter filling the room,  
The smell of coffee drifting near,  
We’d wander streets where memories bloom,  
Each moment crafted, precious and dear.  

As twilight falls, we’d gather near,  
Beneath the stars, with hopes laid ba...

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A small road, untouched by human hands, 

Unveiled only to those who truly see, 

A lane for butterflies and buzzing bees, 

Their secret journey through nature's tapestry.

If it leads somewhere, who can really say? 

I just sigh, knowing its end’s beyond reach, 

This unseen path, no ride will take me there, 

A wanderer’s thoroughfare, always calling me.

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Some things weigh more than verse, it’s true,

Like a baby’s cry or a dog’s need to chew.

A kettle’s loud whistle, talk shows that fight,

TikTok trends fading into the night.

Our days are a mix of both bright and the bland,

With meals that we savour and dawn’s gentle hand.

Viral clips flicker, then quickly they fade,

Yet in simple moments, our memories are made.

Th...

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In the wreckage of trust,
we gather the fragments,
each shard a lesson,
each splinter a step toward light.

Let us speak the unspoken,
words hung like low clouds,
unraveling the knots of resentment,
finding courage in vulnerability.

With open hearts,
we can bridge the chasms,
threading honesty into our seams,
weaving new patterns from the old.

Forgiveness is a gentle river,
flowi...

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In the shadow that our hearts cast,
hatred blooms, a stubborn weed
where once grew a garden of trust.

Words, once tender,
shatter like glass,
a bridge collapsing under weight,
echoes of apologies falling into silent abyss.

We deceive ourselves,
clutching memories like
fragments of a broken mirror,
forgetting the faces we wore,
the warmth that once held us close,
burying the past in...

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The dusk drapes softly on the trees,  

A whispering breeze begins to play.  

The sky ignites with hues of peace,  

As twilight gently melts the day.  

A whispering breeze begins to play,  

It carries dreams of light and shade,  

As twilight gently melts the day,  

And shadows dance in twilight’s glade.  

It carries dreams of light and shade,  

Where laughter mi...

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In whispers soft, the dawn will break, 
Embrace the light, let shadows flee, 
With every breath, a chance to wake, 
Life’s fleeting dance, a gift to see. 

The world awaits, a canvas wide, 
In whispers soft, the dawn will break, 
With open arms, we rise and ride, 
With every breathe, a chance to wake. 

Through trials faced, the victor’s call, 
Embrace the light, let shadows flee,
From...

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Upon the sea where dreams are hiding,

The fishermen's boat goes a-sailing,

Stars above the night are leading,

The lullaby of moon's gentle lowing.

Wynken nods as waves keep onward,

Blynken's eyes with sleep are weaving,

Nod with dreams, skies ever-wand’ring,

In slumber’s realm, sparkly sprites enchanting,

Rest ‘til dawn when harbour lights are nearing.

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In shadows creeping, perfume fades to grey, 
the scent of memories drifts like autumn leaves, 
each whisper of laughter slipping away, 
replaced by echoes of forgotten dreams.

What once brought joy now ignites a spark of dread, 
as familiar faces blur in the twilight, 
the advice of friends, once a comforting thread, 
now tangled in a fog that swallows the light.

I fear the stories bur...

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In front of the koban, leaves swirl,
Star-B’s crammed with cozy laughter,
Autumn's chill wraps us in warmth.
 

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A poem is the funeral pyre bright,
Of pulsations once exhumed from the deep,
Now still, yet present in the waning light;
Fueled by the flame of memories we keep.

A poet gathers thought and hope anew,
As golden hours paint the sky’s embrace,
Where burnished hues in quietude imbue
The heart with echoes of a timeless grace.

Poetry, a dream in words unconfined,
Garbed in the hues of longi...

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In a town where the mugs overflow,  
With laughter and dance in a row,  
The beer flows like streams,  
And all share their dreams,  
As the autumn leaves flutter and glow.  

A jolly old fellow named Fred,  
Found a giant pretzel instead.  
With a grin on his face,  
He claimed first place,  
In the feast where good cheer’s widely spread! 
 

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We can’t go on together with heavy hearts,  

Yet we’ll dance through the stormy weather with heavy hearts.  

In shadows where secrets dwell, we’ll tread,  

Finding solace in the tether of heavy hearts.  

Let’s gather the memories, weave them in gold,  

And mend the fragile tether with heavy hearts.  

Through whispers of doubt, we’ll rise and shine,  

Chasing dre...

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In shadows cast by doubt, our truths reside, 
Once cloaked in whispers, masked by fleeting lies, 
But now the veils of silence fall aside, 
Revealing hearts where honesty hidden lies. 

No longer shall our voices drown in shade, 
For every word once hushed now finds its breath. 
These tales we weave, no longer left to fade, 
Exposes strength in facing fear and death. 

Those lies that bo...

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In the mirror’s soft light, a story unfolds,  
Crow’s feet like whispers, in laughter retold.  
Creases of wisdom etched deeper than skin,  
Each line a reminder of life’s journeys within.  

Liver spots dance like memories aglow,  
Moments of joy, heartaches, and woe.  
A tapestry woven from laughter and tears,  
A testament crafted across passing years.  

These marks of the past, they...

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In a world where shadows stretch and whisper, 
A parish blooms in pixels, soft and bright, 
Where words, like fragile lanterns, flicker, 
Defying the encroaching, endless night. 

Parishioners gather, each heart a verse, 
Weaving their stories in this tangled web, 
From quiet corners, they echo and converse, 
In stanzas that rise, like spume at tide’s ebb. 

They craft their hymns in def...

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These words pour forth,
fluid as cheap wine,
vividly dressed,
like any branded vintage.

Gentle on tired pockets,
they dull the mind’s edge;
after a few goblets,
they all blend into one.

 

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Verse 1
Arise and walk these shadowed streets, 
Breathe deep the remnants of a time long past, 
Whose industrial heart still beats, 
In toxic fumes, our visions cast. 

Chorus
Oh, lift the banner, brave and torn, 
Let the bitter winds collide, 
Through every crack, through every scorn, 
Hope’s light will be our guide. 

Verse 2
Parted lips share wisdom's song, 
Breaking silence that ...

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A number's just a simple sign,  
Yet deeper meanings intertwine.  
Like scars that tell a tale,  
Each figure's more than pale—  
A life lived in each line, so divine! 
 

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In whispers hushed, we ponder distance wide,  
Yet what of closeness, pressing ever near?  
In spaces shared, our hearts may clash and chide,  
And breast feels heavy when its end is clear.  

Too much togetherness can stifle breath,  
Each moment tangled, bodies pressed too tight;  
Ants march on pins, a dance that hints of death,  
As love’s own gaze reveals a troubled plight.  

Yet t...

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In public spaces, moments pierce the soul,
Excruciating scenes that resonate deep.
Abandoned at the mall, I lose control,
You’ve turned away, your silence cuts, and weeps.

It’s not about the meals left on this tray,
But rather the weight of what remains unsaid.
So here we stand, with hearts in disarray,
Don’t come back now, let this chapter end.

What’s left is emptiness, a hollow score...

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Do you remember? Would you know my gait
If only words were left to bear my truth?
While all else lies concealed behind their weight,
Perhaps our thoughts could bridge the loss of Youth.

In conversation’s dance, our souls may meet,
Recalling days when we rode waves of verse.
With every line, their rhythm felt so sweet,
Yet now, it seems we’ve drifted—just a curse.

If only you had shar...

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Of the many things
that have been a regret
"putting down the pen"
has been most rude.

 

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In London’s solemn Poets’ Corner stands, 
A stone of memories, carved by gentle hands. 
Eighty-five years since its first debut, 
Yet names were incomplete, a hidden rue.

Amidst the shadows of a war-torn night, 
Charlotte, Emily, and Anne lost their light, 
The dots above their names—a simple grace— 
Forgotten in the haste, in that troubled space.

Sharon Wright, with keen and watchful ...

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In Kilmarnock's print, a treasure lies,
A first edition, where history sighs,
From eighteen eighty-six, its verses flow,
Robert Burns’ heart, in dialect aglow.

Poems Chiefly In The Scottish Dialect,
Whispers of love, and nature’s effect,
Expected to fetch a princely sum,
Fifty to sixty thousand—oh, how it’ll hum!

Once just six hundred, a modest start,
Three shillings it cost, a work o...

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A known quantity bereft of quality;
a name of little beyond its letters,
by road’s shoulder perhaps guide

to openly weep a slippery slope
of once having known someone’s art
yet lay hold naught of their heart

eternally flowing river of kindnesses
shall meander, thoughts ever caress
even when words and faces now drift

a familiar feeling remains here still
years invested this regenera...

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Yesterday’s spoken word

Today’s unvoiced silence 

Tomorrow’s welcomed regret

press Play and tap Mute

Flickering screen brings slumber.

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once nimble fingers
grasp at lithe reeds 
as they slip and dance
in a breeze’s lullaby
ever present companions
as days turn into nights
 

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leeward of a lean-to hill
iambic cadence thrill
amber flecked lemonade
morsels don pleated frill
bring on tend’rest brocade
while at windward dale
wizened cheeks go pale

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all have gone far and wide
there, a fair distance away
where no eye spy nor stray
only hindsight dare confide
even sproutlings coy in Spring
no fresh joys will they bring
still from Sun, buds cannot hide
 

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frost laced teeth of cracked leather

course through bare back thighs

frigid sheen of yellowed ivory 

caress tentative fingertips 

nose, cheek and ear

incline then enquire 

old smell, old sound

ancient piano sing

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Three years, three months and three days

Perhaps it’s a random amount of time

But in three hours this flight will take off

Gotta take three minutes to freshen up

And look away for for three seconds

No worrying now about free pushbacks 

Let’s put up memories with thumbtacks 

All adds up in life’s measured advances
 

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give up shallying; on finding and sharing

what could be thought of as inner beauty

when these hirsute thoughts bristle again

berating what little of self regard remains 

it’s but an exaggeration to point out hate

when clearly it wasn’t my poem but myself

that lay on literature’s butcher-block altar
 

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for whom threadbare scraps

are treasures under your table 

deserts, ever undulated dunes 

in picture-book perfect gales

stripping away like sandpaper 

perhaps the sting of salt rain

shall sterilize this wanting within
 

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think of me, of us, some time

bandying of thoughts will do 

let them sidle up close to you

just as we did not so long ago

then come and gaze again at

the light residing in my eyes 

then tell me if your reflection

shines with crystalline truth

some time, think of us, of me

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