Best Returning Poems

When I am nothing, a no one,
when nobody remembers my name -
will you give me a purpose to remain?

When I can no longer run,
will you...

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The year has finally yawned and turned       
Upon a half-revealed shoulder.
A vibrancy, intrinsic to a reemerging 
Enforcement of the...

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One day we will be, forever silent.
Where would we be without poetry?

As a child, I buried my heart,
drained from games death would play -
in adulthood,...

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Returning home again after many years away
I find our secret path along the Fundy Bay
That happy place where long ago we played
Where all our dreams...

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they say to mend an injured heart, move on
      and thus I've done so, time-and-time- again
    ...

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Nature's Way Constanza

Sol puts to sleep the hills with light
     while gloaming sheds all fading rays
     and...

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Here’s to the travellers,
   the passengers, the tourists
who trek this alien landscape
   in search of experience.

Here’s to the resilient,
  ...

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We met in Valletta city on a fine November day
Introductions...hugs and kisses; we got talking straight away.
All agreed to go sight-seeing – architecture , harbour...

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Thirsting, thirsting. . . shriveled earth
suffocates in summer’s dearth,
yearns for rain clouds’ forthwith bursting:
Shriveled earth. . . thirsting, thirsting.

Browning, browning in their beds,
flowers parched hang...

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Absolutely enchanting I thought ~
As I drew the curtains wider, to allow in a bit more light....
Returning unto the canvas and dipping my brush
Into a...

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The old red wheelbarrow is still standing there
right next to my Grandfather’s fixed rocking chair.
Though neither has moved in a good many years
their presence revives...

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Lay me down in clover
There I'll set my spirit free
To bask in memories of my youth
When life was still carefree
Where dreams of old still hover
With...

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My nostrils sniff the air seeking,
the various scents tantalising.
Then I smell the bison and throwing
back my head I howl to my pack.

The bison start to...

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(The memories are simple, living the feeling significant)

After conquering Beamsley Beacon due Southwest,
Rombald’s moor stood, while for centuries
within the valley the minute dwellings
of grey stone,...

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Death, the final frontier?

A nest is round.

Our nest the Earth is round like all the stars and planets.

All things are orbital, even time and space.

Let...

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