Poetic Licence

A glimpse into some of my poetic twiddlings, some whimsical, some much less so...

YOUNG AGAIN

If I had my chance, so brief

to glance again the dream of youth’s sweet hope,
I’d grasp a magic shooting star,

whirl breathlessly, carelessly, ‘til afar ...

Hitch a ride to Neverland.

Hold passion preciously in my hand.

Then borne upon a unicorn,

sprinkling fairy dust from dusk ‘til dawn,

I’d catch a raindrop glimmering bright

and freefall gaily through my velvet night.

MY BOX

There’s a box in my head

where I go to hide

when life stabs deep

and bleeds inside.

LONDON'S PAIN

Stabbed in her back

Heart attacked

Viral infection clear

Bandaging wounds with national pride
As her bowels haemorrhage fear.

SUSPENDED IN SILENCE

“It’s not too late.”

Words unspoken

t’wixt you and me

suspended in silence

weigh

heavily.

PAST TENSE

Girl of his dreams I used to be.

Bittersweet memory.

Loved me once the words he says.

Used to know me.

All past tense.

DOES THE BREEZE BLOW A KISS?

Will the world stop turning
If the sun stops yearning
To shine
Each and every day?
And does the breeze blow a kiss
When the sky’s all a-mist
To cheer up
Its miserable ways?
Do the stars ever croon
When they gaze at the moon
As they float
On their Milky Way?
And does thunder ever wonder
If it's really made a blunder
When it rumbles
Through a Summer's day?
Can the wind really tickle
The leaves of a thistle,
Pick berries from the mistletoe?
And when all is said and done
Can a moonbeam truly hum?
These are the things
I'd like to know.