Arras seductive velvet plum
Alike bewitched, beshrew
Dispel this illusion
Reluctant to unfold its spell
Massy foliage threw
Living spirit seer
8/6/2019
arras: tapestry
beshrew: a curse, plague upon.
4.” Everybody has a dark side. Some of us are better at hiding it than others. “ A Simple Favor, 2018
Poetry Contest: KEEP IT BRIEF
Sponsored by: Nette Onclaud
Polonious
Interfering old fool
Hiding behind the arras
Pointing the finger
Died for a king's ransom.
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2018
31/10/18
To All Who Gave Their Lives For Freedom!!
Son of Arras was Vimy Ridge,
Canadian front battleground,
Diversion for the French Nivelle
Defeat the German Sixth Army.
Three thousand Five and ninety eight
Saw not a sunset err again
After their battle had been won
As seven thousand wounded did.
Divisions four of Canada,
First time united, took the prize.
On their twelfth day "the pimple" fell
In April nineteen seventeen.
Today in soils at Vimy Ridge
The dead lie as in Flanders Fields.
They feel no sun, they know no night,
But Canada remembers them.
W.C.Hull © 2009-8-7-765 (D)
You see yourself an ancient tree, to earth you must return
A voice that screamed of newborn things whispers now of worms
You looked toward the acorn once and there you lay your hope
Now through a mist of falling leaves you look back on the oak
You see yourself a tapestry frayed beyond the mend
The fabric worn and tattered, the story told there spent
An arras on a great wall once, so little could you hide
Merely now a threadbare scrap meshed with foolish pride
You see yourself a parchment crumbling on a shelf
Penned within, the fated end you’ve written for yourself
Leaves askew and sallow, wise words turned to wry
Inked regrets on final pages spilled and left to dry
Steel hearts become ruins and ruins turn to rust
Hearth fire burns to ashes and ashes turn to dust
Autumn fire
Veils of orange and red
camouflage in season,
Quenched intense heat
in chills set to quiver,
yellow leaves turn crisp,
swing and dive,
Aroma of Liberty
taking them to roads,
Rugs on walkways,
splendid arras,
Embers set ablaze,
embrace the Autumn fire !
Written Oct 26th, 2016
Sponsor- Mystic rose
with hair
so silk-like
nun's habit
behind arras
of a cult
till my thighs
are steeped in
burning flowers
Shall enter [my]
fingers of smooth
mastery with ebony
eyes.
:: 06-11-2016 ::
In Arras field he watched that day
A flash of light against the grey,
High explosives whistled all around
And fallen thousands filled the ground.
Kentish man against the wall,
He had defended to the last;
A fleeting life--
So briefly did it pass.
One of the Lost generation of World War ONE 1918