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Best Poems Written by Mike Bross

Below are the all-time best Mike Bross poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Mike Bross Poem

The Box

I keep a box of memories
it’s safely tucked away
but now and then and then again 
I bring it out to play

a marble here a matchbook there
and pictures one or two
of things I’ve done and wars I’ve won
and yes there's one of you

my father’s broken pocket watch
my mother’s broken dreams 
my sons first tooth, a letter home
and empty space it seems

oh yes sweetheart I see them now 
the feathers gold and blue
I marked them with the day and date 
of nineteen ninety two

and here's the twigs I kept for you 
from your father's nest
and tufts of down to comfort you 
from your mother's breast

and yes sweetheart I understand
I dearly love you too
and if I could I’d spread my wings
and fly away with you

Details | Mike Bross Poem

Madness

there is a little madness that sleeps inside my head
and it awakes and talks to me each night I go to bed

it speaks to me of heroes and the journeys that they take
from quiet sleep in forests deep it begs me now awake 

its gentle tugs pull back the sheets as if by unseen hand
and whispers softly in my ear oh yes I understand

adventures unbelievable in wondrous lucid dreams 
and there be dragons there to slay l wonder what that means

I now look forward to the night and madness as a friend
and should I die before I wake it may not be the end

for now there is a place I’ve seen just past the forest stand
where madness and adventure wait beyond the things of man

Details | Mike Bross Poem

The Box Revisited

I am getting older now and live alone but for the company of a blue and gold macaw named Sweetheart who inspired me to write the poem 'The Box' for her birthday.

I raised this happy bird from a baby and in spite of my shortcomings, she has grown in size and virtues of vigilance, honesty, bravery, tenacity, adaptability, forgiveness and the skill of flight. 

Now as she greets me each morning I am humbled by her vigorous love of life and as we stand at the window and she calls out, I cant help but wonder if the sound reaches beyond the distant hills to a place where it is still the morning of life. A place where the macaws of the Amazon come together in a cacophony of living rainbows with voices that echo as if nature had intended to speak. It must be there in these wild cathedrals that the sights and sounds arrest the mind in silent invocation, and hold transfixed in wonder, all who witness. 

The wild macaws are still with us as we nightly visit them in sleep, but they are somewhere off in the distance now, traveling toward an empty horizon as are she and I.

Details | Mike Bross Poem

Random Lives

The reaper reaps in random ways
no signpost warns of last lived days
but ancient ears can hear the sound
of thundered hooves upon the ground
 
on blackened steed with fiery breath
the sickle scythes of pending death
with slackened reins the reaper rides
as changing gait our fate decides
 
and now the day on random ground
the sickles path has laid us down
and on he rides for those to come
whose random lives soon now be done
 
till silence falls the fields around
and winter snows make white the ground
we rest awhile with random friends
and in the spring anew begins
 
as clover lines the babbling brooks
and flowers spring from tiny nooks
and deer and rabbit come to graze
the reaper reaps in random ways
 
and so again that day will be
with promise new of destiny
till thundered hooves of blackened steed
the reaper comes again.