Birth of a dream,
Creation of imagination,
Humanity in calm unity,
Progress of a man and his dream,
And the whole wide world to live free,

Islands forged by great nations,
And it all began on the foundation of an idea,
A plan,
A thought,
A dream,

Poets go to line the streets,
To take a mental picture of the scene,
And to put it all in words,
To put it all in actions,
To put it in peoples imagination,

Come walk with me in the rain
and
let us forget ourselves…
all our tensions shall drain
and
go down along with the rain.

None shall know what happened
the rain comes in spates
so do tensions,
there is no apprehension
let’s dance in the coolness
of the natures gift,
there should not be a trace of any rift
and
as we submerge within and without
the rain alone
will be a witness no doubt

Far away in Fairyland
Where sea met gilded shore,
Ere sun and moon shone over land,
With blossom, evermore.

And in fields of scented grass
Two kingdoms stood aside.
Within a high, cold mountain pass,
There stood a third, astride.

In kingdom each was a hall
Of gold, of silv' of iron;
Three Houses raised after the fall
Of King Anelion.

Those kings were brothers from their birth,
And brotherlike they were;
They shared their sorrows and their mirth,
And stood together wherever.

Her First Smile ::: of 1942

Memories of mamas
Never fade away
Till we similarly
Pass the same way

My mom smiles at me
Since her very last day
I still keep returning her way

When will time
take my smile away?

Come back mama
For once
And
as we smile
Take me smilingly
your smiles way
miles away,
miles away
yes ,
miles away

NOBODY'S READING
Someone used these words at the end of their poem it made me write this right now:-

Nobody's reading
not this tome of words that flow
from brains that soak up sounds and meanings
every day,
they toil and boil the thoughts that singe the mind,
their unheard wisdom in disguise
through eyes of night
and daylight showers
dimmed,

February's too damn long
too many days of naked trees
too many days without bird song
too few bare midriffs and cute knees

I've grown tired of stretched out shadows
and weary of the long cold nights
as well as bare brown lifeless meadows
(but I don't miss mosquito bites)

I miss seeing spotted fawns
well filled nests and halter tops
clear damp dewey noisy dawns
and did I mention halter tops?

My name is Damien Stryker
In life
A beguiling rogue ,born to royalty
Nary a care in the world
Believing in neither God or Satan

On a ride to my home
A road taken many a times before
My horse began to rear
Ah but what is this I hear
The trees are chanting my name
Voices drew near
Captured
I was set upon an Altar
As a sacrifice to whom

THE FAILFORD FALLS

If by the River Ayr you stroll, from Mauchline to Mossblown
And winter light is fading fast, you might wish you'd stayed at home
But if it is the 29th of February (Leap Year)
You may hear a noise, like great Neptune's voice,
As Failford village nears.

My dearest darling Rosy; beauteous as
Ever I pray, despite long ages since separation cursed us
That fateful day on that crossroad
Leading to unlike wild worlds apart and their agonizing load
It has indeed been long my love with torment
But fresh memories of the first day we met
Still looms like restless shadows spooking aloud
It was dusk of which the sun clutched in an amber cloud
Gracefully shone thy face cheerfully like a cherub
That descended down in charming robe
From the heavens - so timid, natures beauteous rub

The most joy I ever had
Sharing ideas, experiences
Those help others where they're weak
Poets’ young, young at heart
Beginner, intermediate, advanced
Sharpen creative writing skills

I lie in my bed, tired
Feeling pangs of trials, hard hitting
Heat flares in my flesh
I take a break often, closing my eyes
Weary from pain controlling my life
My joy soars, excelling my inner peace