Best Barrie Poems
“The reason birds can fly and we can't is simply because they have perfect faith, for to have faith is to have wings.”
- J.M. Barrie, The Little White Bird
Robins, wrens, sparrows,
quivering, yet silent, still
on limbs and branches, boughs,
heavy with rustling leaves,
their feathers brilliantly flaunted,
in cloaks of crimson, indigo and lemony yellow,
creating music with arms, soft wings
singing to the shattered trees,
in altos, sopranos and gentle tenors,
laughing, chattering, chortling,
teaching the skies their cozy songs…
wrestling with the crisp of winter,
hesitating on the melody,
alive… more alive than the breathless winds,
shivering through the oaks and pines,
washing away all the sun’s spun wishes,
singing light on the ridges,
murmuring joy and peace and love,
in angelic voices, lifted in praise,
silencing the grief, the pain, the heartbreaking
in the distance,
the heart breaking, like a whisper…
birdsong, bird’s song,
alive and warm, in tones of hope,
poured out like the sun,
gentle and fond,
adoring, worshipful,
rising to the skies, tender
falling over the promises, the fanciful
reflections of a love,
who is peaceful like the dove,
bird’s reassuring, in hues, all colors,
rising and susurrant,…
praising, praying, promising
forever spun on gold threads of light,
softly falling on shadows,
restoring the life, resurrecting
insights, inspiring, imaginations,
alive… so alive, the bird’s sing
and, while the night, so silent,
presses in on the soul,…
we are remembering the call of hope,
peaceful and praising, every praising,
like the wind through the trees,
the singsong breeze,
each bird trembles with the need,
to please, simply please,
singing to the One who erases the dark,
fills the heart and silences the shame,
as the heart continues to pray,
and praise, oh, how they praise,
singing like the love who stirs life,
inside each story,
inspires love that is ever worthy.
"To die would be an awfully big adventure!" - J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan
Death
A grand
Adventure
God's gift to make
Each breath so precious
Life's sweet echo
Warm and dark
Like the
Womb.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "August Ninette" Poetry Contest, Caren Krutsinger, Judge & Sponsor.
~ for JM Barrie ~
I’ll wait …
you know I will -
I’ll wait for you … here …
but not a single instant longer than
forever …
I’ll ply the marshmallow sky for
the breath of you
(that aging world will be the death of you)
pixie dust trailing like ribbons -
satin pink to tie your hair
the flaxen strands so
often fell between our kisses …
my wistful miss is the
sun and the sea and the moon!
beg, fly here soon
or this wondrous place will turn ice
no more paradise -
no more mermaids or Lilies or Tink
just think of the calamity!
empty house, empty tree … empty hearts -
fits and starts
and no mother for The Boyz
no crowing noise - no bang-a-rang
just chill pirates, the Jolly Roger
and a Hooky ol’ codger
with a tick-tock crocky tail and his
vengeance for a sail -
(he needs a hand, after all) …
oh girl, return you must
with just a wee bit of fairy dust
and a tall tale or more -
maybe two … or fifty-four
“Home Sweet Home” upon the door …
just point to the morning, on
two stars to starboard
(never larboard)
and find your home … your boy
your me, your Pan - no fat ol’ man …
for I shall be here
with the wind ‘neath my heels
sprite sprinkles in my hair
(wear no wrinkles - dont you dare!)
oh, your girly flavor -
like marzipan savor on my lips
soft, tangy sips that
leave me thirsty for swallows
such sweet numberless tomorrows
yes … I’ll wait …
your lad, so clever!
but not one moment past ever -
still, Wendy …
leave your window open
all the same …
just …
in case.
Original - Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden July 2, 2024
Rewrite:
Emblazoned on a metalic field
Leeds coat of arms displays an azore shield.
Upon a sable chief, this deep black bar,
Three mullets argent, silver stars.
On a chain of or, beneath the chief,
Hangs the finest golden fleece.
Surmounting the crest, rests a wreath of blue,
Perches an owl proper,of natural hue.
Supporting each side,two owls with plumage brown,,
Ducally gorged with a golden crown.
Underneath, inscribed on a scroll
PRO REGE ET LEGE it does extol.
Latin translates ' FOR KING AND THE LAW'
A motto born after civil war.
7/ 29/ 2015.
The city of Leeds
In the county of Yorkshire
England.
George Barrie Seal.
Spring is swinging blossoms blow, kissing waving.
Larks now rising flutter by, sweetly singing.
Flowers swaying dancing to natures embrace,
Gracefully sashays.
3/ 17/ 2015.
George Barrie Seal.
It's all change at Crewe
Rollermakers flattened while riding Crewe's roller-coaster
The tea factory now shipping booze to the nation
chester barrie gone from cutting suits and is now selling flowers
British rail once built the engines and his now a train garage.
Rolls Royce a national treasure now owned by another nations car maker
its all change at Crewe
Crewe's university campus now educates the masses
That other nations car maker now makes Bentleys for the rich and famous
New businesses selling ice cream vans to gadget insurance
New medical centres and schools to be proud of
Queens park rescued from closure
it's all change at Crewe.
Written by the hands,
Of James Matthew Barrie.
Came a remarkable play,
Of four kids and a fairy.
Of a boy named Peter,
Who took Wendy by the hand.
Leading her and her brothers,
To the magic of Neverland.
With childish innocence,
Written in every line.
This ingenious play,
Stood the test of time.
For Peter never ages,
He’ll never be a man.
Solely a boy forever,
Thus.......Peter Pan.
With a little pixie dust,
Off the wings of Tinker Bell.
Came a romantic adventure,
In the words of a fairy tale.
. Each year as Christmas rolls around, as I buckle under the pressure and stress of
shopping for gifts for people that already have everything, I find myself remembering that
Christmas of 1954.
Dad had joined the army that year and we moved from the East Coast of Canada
to Ontario, leaving behind our extended family and the only home I had ever know in a small
fishing village along the Bay of Fundy.
Now we stood gazing in horror at the rows of ugly buildings sitting on barren land
in the middle of nowhere. This was the housing provided by the army and was a major part
of the wage agreement.
My mother was inconsolable until dad rented us a small apartment over a Chinese
restaurant in downtown Barrie. There was no remuneration by the army for forfeiting the
housing, so it left dad with a very small pay-check
Pay day was once a month and we usually ran out of money in the last week, so,
off we would go to the pawn shop with dad’s prized possession; his short-wave radio, won for
superior marksmanship.
Being kids, we finally adjusted to our new world as we watched the Santa Claus
Parade march below our living room window amid the honking horns, blaring bands and
throngs of people lined along the streets as far as the eye could see as we laughed with glee.
~~~
We had seen them on our way to school in the window of the bicycle shop;
gleaming with chrome spokes and handlebars and hand grips adorned with multi-colored
streamers. There I would stand until my feet grew numb from the cold, daydreaming of
riding back to the East Coast. I could actually see the sun glistening on the waves as I raced
along the ocean on the way to grandma’s house. More than once I had to stay after school
for being late.
My brother thought maybe if we were really good, Santa would bring those
bicycles to us. I being the older and therefore the wiser, knew the state of the real Santa’s
affairs and promptly convinced my brother I had heard from a reliable source Santa had a
shortage of bicycles this year and we would just have to earn the money and buy them
ourselves.
Continued in part 2....
~ for J.M. Barrie ~
I’ll wait …
you know I will -
I’ll wait for you … here …
but not a single instant longer than forever
I’ll ply the puffy sky for the
breath of you
(for that world would be the death of you)
pixie dust trailing like fine ribbons
satin pink to tie your hair
the flaxen strands
so often fell between our kisses
my wistful miss is the
moon and the sun and the sea!
beg, come back to me
or this wondrous place will turn ice
no more paradise -
no more mermaids or Lilies or Tink
just think of the calamity!
empty house, empty tree, empty hearts
fits and starts -
and no mother for The Boys
no crowing noise
just chill pirates, the Jolly Roger
and a hooky ol’ codger
with a tick-tock tail and his
vengeance for a sail -
he needs a hand, after all …
oh return, you must, with a bit of magic dust
and a tall tale or more -
maybe two … or fifty-four
“Home Sweet Home” upon the door …
just point to the morning, on
two stars to starboard
(never larboard)
and find your home … your boy … your me
your Pan …
for I’ll be here
with the wind ‘neath my heels
fairy dust in my hair
and your taste -
like marzipan on my lips …
yes … I’ll wait
but leave your window open
all the same
just …
in case.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, June 29, 2024
Words hurt like fire burning inside your body
Spitting out ashes through your eyes
Water is building up inside my lungs
Drowning in reality
Being with you hurts
Around you it aches
I bruise easily
Your words are like knives
stabbing
Ripping out my guts
Sorrow buries me knee deep into my grave
Nobody there to be my safe
Wish I could keep you in my life
But there is no end to the trudge
It's like walking on a cliff
I never know when I'm going to get pushed
So I have to cut you out
The need for love will grow more
Shelter my heart for now
I'll keep it locked inside my tomb
Put the chains on it
Barrie the key to the lock
Hide these tears that will come for now
Maybe one day we can get back to trying to put broken things back together
But for now it's rocks in the dirt
there's only so many pieces you can pick up before your back aches
Wish you would love me
But it's too good to be
Your still my family
But for now it's got to get erased
So goodbye for now steal away our memories
Cuz I won't be able to bare remembering
I'll stick them on wings of doves
In hope of peace ....
“To die … will be an awfully big adventure.”
- J.M. Barrie
~
grown gray, had I, with stiffened bones
the pains and aches that old age owns
yet I could still dredge up that vow …
(the one I’d made long years from now)
to cheat the reaper’s blade … somehow
I swore that I should not then roam -
that second star, far-flung from home
and yet, the hope that wrote my chart
(from hopes mere flesh did not impart)
that quest - to save my childish heart
so, twice to starboard, sextant free
I set course through a dream or three
to leave that mortal world behind …
(and mortals, quite the dearest kind)
for Neverland … deep in my mind …
for … Neverland!
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, January 18, 2023
A catastrophic tornado on a path of destruction,
hit Barrie, Canada July 15th at 230pm, Thursday;
high winds took roofs, and trees like a great suction.
windows blown out, vehicles overturned, debris filled the streets.
All the people could do was hide in basements and pray,
after dazed homeowners were already talking about reconstruction;
people wandered in shock at the scenes of total disarray.
_________________________
July 19, 2021
Poetry/Rhyme/IHO-The Survivors
Copyright Protected, ID 07-1374-507-19
All rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Julyme
sponsor, William Kekaula, Judged 08/14/2021
“It’s very good to meet you,
You look younger than expected,
But guess that’s always likely,
When your status is protected?”
“Yes it’s good to meet you,
Of course I seem just a pup,
I’m bound to look a youngster,
Cos I never will grow up!”
“I heard that you can fly as well?
Is that line really true?”
“Yes I can fly at night-time,
Come back and I will show you.”
“I heard you come from neverland,
A strange name for a place?
Does no-one who lives there grow up?
If ancestors we trace?”
“You have a friend called tinkerbell?
A fairy? Are they real?
My readers all would love to know,
What secrets you’ll reveal”.
“Yes, Tinkerbell is lovely,
And a very special friend,
And all the things you heard are true,
It’s not just play pretend”
“I interviewed a Wendy,
She had lots of tales to tell,
She mentioned some boys that were lost,
A Captain Hook as well?”
“She said he wants to get you back,
For what you did before”,
“You know a lot about me,
Not sure I can say much more”.
“I needed confirmation,
Of the things that Wendy said,
So now I’ve heard it all is true,
We can all feel safe in bed”!
(Peter Pan by JM Barrie)
HE SAID WE COME FROM TWO DIFFERENT PLACES.
HE PUTS ON SO MANY FACES.
SO MUCH LOVE A LETTER ERASES.
WE WERE TOGETHER FOREVER.
NOW ITS LIKE IT WAS NEVER.
HE WAS SO SWEET.
TEERS BARRIE MY FEET.
I FEEL PAIN WITH EVERY HEARBEAT.
WHAT CAN I DO?
IM BROKEN IN TWO.
SO MANY THINGS HE NEVER KNEW.
WHO WOULD EVER THOUGHT HE WOULD BE UNTRUE.
HE LIED TO ME.
HE TOLD ME HE LOVED ME THEN SET ME FREE.
HE SAID WE WEREN’T MEANT TO BE.
SO MUCH I COULDN’T SEE.
I FALL TO FAST.
I GAVE MY HEART THINKING IT WOULD LAST.
HE TORE IT APART.
SO SILENLY WE CHOSE TO PART.
HOW TO FIND A NEW START?
I NEED SOMETHING TO HOLD ME DOWN.
I’M SINKING FAST AND STARTING TO DROWN.
Welcome back,
It’s been a while
An invitation to Wine Pairing
I bet it brought a smile
Zevenvacht’s our wine
A farm from Stellenbosch
Meaning Seven Expectations
By golly, that sounds posh
I have some peeps
Tonight I must mention
Dom our good friend
Out spending his pension
Can’t leave out Auralia
She’s about to split
Rumour has it
She’s fallen in love with a Brit
On to my favourites
The gorgeous hot ducks
Looking radiant as ever
Wish I’d worn a Tux
Kerry’s back
For a brief interlude
With Catherine and friends
That table’s bound to get rude
Enough now, Barrie
It’s time to stop
The next course’ almost ready
And there’s wine to dop