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David Boulton Poem
How I pray that I shall never forget
The day we picked the violets
You wore them in your hair
And Spring was in the air.
When bluebells danced in sunlit glades
Like an azure carpet so neatly laid
And sugar-almond apple blossom bloomed
These tender flowers are gone too soon
Like Spring-time in a brave new year
Hope for hope is always here
When chilling frosts are gone.
I will always remember as time goes by
Ancient lanes beneath roiling skies
That mirror'd your eyes of China blue
And we picked violets in the lane
You wore them in your hair.
How I pray I shall never forget
The day we picked the violets.
Copyright © David Boulton | Year Posted 2016
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David Boulton Poem
My head is full of broken glass
Of broken dreams and promises
My mind is like a raging sea
My heart is ice in razor wire
My soul feels not a part of me.
I stare at bare white bedroom walls
I stare into the empty void
I watch my life down empty halls
I hate the passing of my days
Our love has gone and worlds apart.
My mind is full of broken glass
I see the empty mindless space
I truly hate the human race
My senses cold beyond belief
My mind can find no kind relief.
My heart is so a block of ice
My life is full of broken dreams
My head is full of broken glass
All my life is in the past.
Copyright © David Boulton | Year Posted 2016
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David Boulton Poem
A friend told me a life ago
That once he ventured to a beach
In watery velvet moonlit night
To cast a line in faith to reap
The free- est bounty of the deep
The night ran dark and icy still
Clouds like heavy curtains moved
The darkest hours to flight
A surf- suck churning of the tide
Through shifting pebbles clicked and moaned
Was all there was of noise
I watched his eyes grow wide
As he told me of that night
Magically the surf became alive
With little fish, all silvered hued
Like shards of newly furnaced steel
All along the spumy shore
A million fishes could he see
And transfixed became and viewed
The wonder of the awesome sight
Glittering shiny in the ebb tide flow
The moment was surreal, but full of wonder
The wonder on a higher plane
Was how these little fish so frail
Can face the fury of the sea
On such a driven course
And yet survive and grow
A moral for us all is here
That scraps of life as frail as these
That do no wrong can rise above adversity
And be immortal, almost heavenly
And so must we
We are all little fish
I asked my friend that if perhaps
He’d fallen in some little slumber
And dreamed the dream of fishermen
Of fish seen as thick as grass
He said the little darlings on that shore were real
And will stay with me forevermore.
Copyright © David Boulton | Year Posted 2007
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David Boulton Poem
Do you still dress in black?
Do you still write in rhyme?
Is the Moon still your guide?
Do you miss me sometimes?
Is your life full of joy?
Do you still love the sea?
Is there love in your world?
Do you ever miss me?
Do your flowers grow well?
Do you grow your Moonflowers?
Just as once you grew ours?
May you still dress in black
May you write ever more
May the Moon light your way
For the rest our your days
May you never look back
May the Sun always shine
May your love still be mine
May your flowers grow high
Under azure blue skies
May your words always rhyme
Down the measures of time.
Copyright © David Boulton | Year Posted 2016
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