Tag Archives: The Writer

An Invitation

Hello
To the Readers
Let’s have a chat

Today is your chance
To link
Your favourite poems

Comment
And click
And share what you love

Let us see
What you
Enjoy.

Citrus

Citrus is the word
For plants that flower
Oranges, Lemons
Grapefruits, Limes

Cultivated
Since ancient times
Tangerines are in there
Somewhere

Evergreen shrubs
With spiny shoots
Their fruit covered
In a zesty leather

Do they make
Lemon couches?
Spur heeled boots
Of orange peels?

These coastal growers
Fight scurvy
The little-known
Buddha’s hand stretches
In pell-mell clusters
Like squid tentacles

Piling goodness
In autumn shade
Peel a seedless
Clementine, a
Complex aroma
To enjoy.

One Day

One day
When you stand still
Long enough

The world takes form
The buzz of conversation
The feet stomping in time

It all
Just goes
Quiet

For a heartbeat
And the souls
Of the ones before you

Those eyes
That peer back
To yours

They speak
With the voices
Of angels

Oh angel
Before me
Adore me

Their eyes
Seem to speak
Behold me

And hold me
I am lost
And found

In
The magic
Of your stare.

Mint Chocolate Soul

You’re cooler
than your friends
Mint chocolate soul

For everyone loves chocolate
And those who see your shell
So solid if they knew
Inside you a river of joy pulses
In those brief moments
Where we snap and feel so open
Your core is a flavour
That leaves the exposure
Refreshed
You are a mint chocolate soul
And the very gods of hair
Who saw fit
to adorn you with chocolate locks
Know the truth of your center
The secret smile that winners have
That what you’ve got inside
Is more flush to the cheeks
The palate of life licked
Clean in search of the ever
Present gift of minty cool
Mint chocolate soul
When you melt
You taste of life
The best parts together
and ever sweet.

Racquetball Echoes

Poetry lacks
The undisputed facts
Of sports

The cut-and-dry
Of white painted lines
Of sorts

Except
Perhaps
These words.

Ribbons and Bows and Painted Toes

Scarlet ribbons
In chestnut locks
Truly hold the key

And crimson bows
That volley from her quiver
Have deeply shaken me

The 25th, Morning

Branches dance and sway
The sounds we call Christmas music
Your brown hair in the wind