I ask for no intrusion, give no welcome here. The hour is late, Or mayhaps not. Time plays on in timbres unfathomed - that orchestra of woe, winding wood and brass face; a metronomic bomb swaying back and forth; tick-tock – from dawn of time, back and forth, through rhyme and minuet, forth and back … Continue reading Father Time
poetry
Abandonment
Nothing moves, save the mould and microscopic tentacles of decay We sit and wait - Watch the fabric of existence tear itself apart All will crumble eventually, the walls, the roof - the sky fall in on us Empty space, hard wood, time splintering between the cracks of abandonment No truth is real, no lie … Continue reading Abandonment
Autumn Song
When leaves of autumn gold fall down, nights draw in, and cold surrounds, there is a fire within my heart that burns away when we're apart. And when the wind blows from the north - it's icy breath so old and coarse - through tendril sleep and night so long, it's in your arms that … Continue reading Autumn Song
Old Wind by Darren Hawbrook
I am very honoured today to have one of my poems featured on Louise Hasting's site, Wings Over Water. If you haven't come across any of Louise's work yet, please pop over to her site and read some of the wonderful poems and prose she has posted there.
Into the Blue
Dear Oscar, I wanted to make a post that will remind you of your first steps into the vast, blue yonder, And for you to know how small we both were against the mighty ocean. One day you’ll sail on imaginary winds, Fight pirates with wooden sword unsheathed, hopping one-legged with your friends. You’ll … Continue reading Into the Blue
Chameleon
Chameleon I change into the surroundings, melt into the night - can you feel my poison breath upon your neck, so slight? I am always watching you, never knowing where I hide; invisible – betrayed - by your design, my blood runs cold inside. I may reside among you, you may be blessed to know, … Continue reading Chameleon
A Voice
Always a voice inside me calls, when all around the darkness crawls, I know, I sense, someone is there, can feel the coldness of their stare Who has come at this late hour? into my dreams, for to devour, I fear they have a hold on me, or else they come to set me free. … Continue reading A Voice
Heatwave
Seeing as we're skipping spring and going straight into summer and a mini heatwave, I thought this poem would be quite appropriate: The last breeze they remember seemed a lifetime ago, a legend passed down through generations to regale a time when they didn’t squirm beneath the arching sun that melted their brains. … Continue reading Heatwave
Sunset
Sunset They watched the sunset from a rocky cliff, the wind rushing through their hair. Pale reflections of the setting sun danced upon the waves of the ocean, so beautiful was the evening light. They watched the sun sink without trace, spilling its light into fathoms deep. Folds of darkness rippled about them like the … Continue reading Sunset
Blurred Worlds 