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Frying Pan

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Below is the poem entitled Frying Pan which was written by poet Keith Bickerstaffe. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Frying Pan

Many springs have come and gone, 
the city roars and wheezes, 
concrete monsters block the prospect 
and restrict the balmy breezes. 

Summers stifle, streets are steaming, 
hydrants bring some small relief, 
merchants battle with the street gangs, 
struggle on in blind belief. 

Canyons strangle, subways throttle, 
autumn bleeds in red and gold, 
chilly now as winter beckons 
with its shroud of killing cold. 

Jersey beckons 'cross the river, 
yet another frying pan, 
in the cauldron of convection, 
cradle of the modern man. 

Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe

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  1. Date: 6/24/2013 1:52:00 AM
    I agreed with Rose POV, You are mighty and your mind is brilliant. Well done Poet. I'm glad to call you that. AO

  1. Date: 6/22/2013 9:36:00 AM
    Rustic charm.....rare to find today.........:):):):):

  1. Date: 6/21/2013 5:20:00 PM
    You have the soul of an old poet Keith very old xxx

  1. Date: 6/21/2013 12:57:00 PM
    Whew,,,Im hot and tired just reading are spot on..If I could, Id move to the deep woods and let the world take care of itself. lol. BG