Tim Smith Poet Rhyme

Broken Fences

Torn and tattered leaning in disrepair
up on tiptoes little eyes want to know
lost with flying forms of trepidation
hiding memories one cant let go

Hand painted soldiers with drips of white
once straight arrows pointed to the sky
plastic suitcases meticulously strewn about
cloistered chickweed climb making daffodils cry

Stone crumbles under small weathered frowns
dreams of the next Simone laid to rest
tall grass softens another fateful fall
escaping a sharpened prowess put to the test

Sights plighted a place most aristocracy fear 
but bubble gum giggles are often heard
the dirt and dust so easily brushed off
a fortress full of fantasy in world that's blurred

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Lim'Rik Flats December 18, 2016 at 10:17 AM Cemetery? Just a guess. Took me on quite a journey complete with sound track.

Darren White December 16, 2016 at 10:42 PM This is a series of memories, slowly fading in the years of devastation to follow, but still lingering. That memory of mine of my sister and I dressing up, I kept it in my heart all the years of misery, and it shines. This is different and far far more profound. It's beautiful

Arthur Vaso December 16, 2016 at 9:42 PM This is great, I can see a series here with the last few poems! :)

Andrea Dietrich December 16, 2016 at 8:54 PM Stark images, Tim. Another deep one from you. A little too deep for me but I can really get a picture of sadness where laughter too can be heard.

Paul Callus December 16, 2016 at 3:08 PM Excellent, Tim; you convey images, contrasts and emotions with poetic ability. #7 Regards // paul

Jan Allison December 16, 2016 at 2:33 PM Such stark deep imagery ...Devastation seen through the eyes of a child yet their laughter can still be heard.i feel incredibly emotional reading these lines Tim ... an exceptional write Hugs jan xx

Anne-Lise Andresen December 16, 2016 at 1:53 PM - I feel a deep sadness in this write, Tim - hugs // Anne-Lise :)

Chris Green December 16, 2016 at 12:07 PM Tim, this was very deep, the thoughts this creates are all over the board. I smiled and I sighed, frowned and almost cried. I see this through a child's eyes, this fence, though broken, for now keeps the darkness of the world out and the fantasy world of imagination intact. I hope I got that right.