Hidden Truth

An ocean in a billion drops
It drenches as it falls,
Between each drop a truth is seen
Enough to shatter walls,
And if you listen close enough
It speaks to one and all.

A blanket made of honeyed light
It covers hills and dales,
It’s seen amongst the faded trees
And dancing in the vales,
And if you look with open eye
You’ll see the truth it hails.

A wind to chill and fill the eaves
It sets the leaves to dance,
The patterns formed in branches sway
Are worth a lingered glance,
And with each gust amongst the clouds
The truth will take the chance.

A universe of glowing stars
Such distances between,
The multitude of planets cold
That never may be seen,
Still hold a place for such a truth
As sun’s perpetual gleam.

Each person has this truth defined
Within their heart and soul,
And all through life it’s never seen
’til reaching heavens goal,
And no one could, with conscience clear
Let such a truth be told.

Reblog : My Dad, The Granddad

It’s an anniversary for me today. Five years ago today my father passed away suddenly. I won’t tell fibs and say “Not a day goes by when I don’t think of him…”, or anything like that. My father couldn’t abide lying. I do think of him, often, usually when I am in some kind of emotional trouble, or have an important decision to make. It’s at times like those I miss him, and wish I could call on him. But anyway. This evening, I will have a drink on him, his favourite tipple, and a single cigarette, just as he smoked. In recognition of today, I wanted to reblog the poem my son wrote, when he was 14, in honour of him. I read it before posting this, and YET AGAIN it brought a tear to my eye. Feelings – they have a knack of sneaking up on one and surprising with their potency, no? I hope you like this. And here’s to my dad – five years gone, but not forgotten.

The times we had
Why….just why….would a life like yours be taken
When I first heard the news of your parting I was sure they were mistaken
But they weren’t
And so the memories began,
Of the time we had
My heart aches at the thought of you gone
An unbearable pain and grief
You may of been a tad grumpy, but you were a lovely man underneath!
You were a man of few word(haha) but a great father to my dad
Yet I still come to pain
When I think of the times we had
But why so sad Jake? Have you forgotten all?!
Those winter, summer, autumn walks where the oak trees all stand tall
And the stories, oh…the stories, the stories of things that have been
You were a man who create the most wonderful childhood dreams
So now your gone, at peace
But I shall not cry, not even a tad
You’ll always be in my memory
When I think of the times we had

Party

I can’t say for sure where this came from, but it may help to know I was thinking of Hunter S. Thompson and his book “Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas” when this came to me…

A carnival of frolicking freaks
A party of perversion,
The night that rings with ecstasy
And speaks to all subversion.
The devilled masks that hide the grins
The cloaks that hide the grasping,
All shown in light from candles red
That flutter with their gasping.
A scent of musk and sweet perfume
A taste of sweat on skin,
To touch and feel with covered eyes
And drink the milk of sin.
The music of a countless moan
The sounds of pleasures pleading,
Such symphony to speak of lust
And fantasies of pleasing.
A night that’s rich with hot desire
A time for taking pleasure,
To hell with all may come at dawn
Let greed and want take measure.
Oh take me to this wicked den
Where bodies are the masters,
And leave me be in decadence
To stay there ever after.

Reblog : Moon

My muse seems to have taken her leave, and as such, although I have such a desire to write, my well is dry. So, I thought I’d look back at some posts from this time last year. Here is one I particularly like, and it’s also inspired by this post here. (There is one slight tweak to the original, I’ve used the word ‘doth’ twice in this one). I hope those who have not seen this before enjoy it.

We kissed ‘neath moon
that waxes so,
and wondered who
would see our glow;
when passions hold
doth grip with lust,
and skin is brushed
with starlights dust.

This night of shine
that pleases so,
with thoughts of love
in passions throe;
the very light
of lunar grin,
that tones the world
as tarnished tin.

Hold me close
and kiss me dear,
with you the night
doth hold no fear;
and in our night
with moon above,
we’ll show the stars
what it is,
to love.

To Rise : A Reading

Once again, my tatty little blog has been blessed by the dulcet tones of Fibee5 who has given me the pleasure of recording one of my recent poems – To Rise. I’m sure you’ll all agree she gives my words such a sheen of quality and meaning. I hope you enjoy listening to this as much as I did. .

Dreams Of You

Full disclosure – I’ve never read the original Lewis Carroll books, Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland, and Alice Through The Looking Glass. I recently bought them to rectify that situation. First of all, I was unaware of Lewis Carroll’s history and life – some of it quite eye-opening. Secondly, there is a style of poetry in there I really like – and yes, you can see that influence in this one. (The opening lines are inspired from a black & white photo I saw of the Paris floods in 1910). Still, I do hope you all like it.

A river black with books about
Words scattered far and near,
Flung about as autumn leaves
By wind so harsh and sheer,
What pain to see such pages lost
As dreams of you my dear.

A snowy plain so bright and cold
Made white from clouds above,
Deep in drifts of frozen rain
As pure as feathered doves,
Will still be sure to melt and fade
As dreams of you my love.

A forest old and full of trees
So ancient standing tall,
The canopy a sky of green
As natures treasured hall,
Before too long must fall and die
As dreams of you my all.

A universe of stars aglow
As heavens painted art,
Such timelessness in purple space
With planets far apart,
Will still one day be formed in dust
As dreams of you my heart.

A fire once did burn and rage
With passion hot and clear,
And in it’s warmth my soul did glow
With nought that felt as fear,
But ashes now are all about
As dreams of you my dear.

The Wind

I think you can guess how I was disturbed last night, and where this came from. It’s a quick effort, before the rigours of the day. I hope you like it.

It whistles, the wind, such a
Mournful sound,
And passes through curtains
Where nightmares be bound.

Dark pictures, it brings, with a
Forceful blow,
And turns peaceful slumber
To frightful tableau.

It screeches, the wind, such a
Fearful howl,
And changes sweet dreaming
To something more foul.

Dark letters, it sends, with an
Evil hand,
And shows to the dreamer
Such terrible lands.

It hammers, the wind, such a
Final force,
And batters at windows
As an unbroken horse.

Disturbing, it’s voice, with such
Chilling speech,
Heart freezing promises
Eager to preach.

It whistles, the wind, such a
Devilish sprite,
Disturbing the sleeping,
In the depths of the night.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 681 other followers