Keith Bickerstaffe Poet Verse

Belmont Vista

Belmont wallows in westering 
twilight, sheep graze in cold 
pastures, hares scamper, 
ignoring a circling hawk.

Blackpool's urban sprawl crawls off 
up to the scarred horizon, the Tower 
pricks the heavens like a syringe, 
spilling the blood-red sun.

Evening falls, I'm all alone
and free to stare,  
a wondrous, star-flecked firmament
in phosphorescent flare!

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Nathaniel Köhp December 19, 2008 at 8:38 PM Great choice of words here. Especially the descriptive words like "phosphorescent". It paints such a scene. I think you've mentioned Belmont in other poems, it must mean a lot to you. Nathaniel

Kristin Reynolds December 19, 2008 at 2:49 AM Wowza, Keith I really loved this one! That second verse - whoa! You got me with this one, awesome visual and the red just pops. love Kristin

Robin L. Gass December 18, 2008 at 8:09 PM What a beautiful picture you have painted, Keith. The imagery is rich and brilliant. Thank you for letting me see it through your eyes. So lovely! Love Robin