Best Scan Poems

When I gaze into this realm, I see more than the dazzling array
     of golden starbursts floating in a cosmic sea...

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Are Flowers for Picking?

I question myself,
silently standing beside
the quaint wooden kiosk 
in the centre of the square.
My eyes scan the freshly 
picked assortment of roses,...

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While whispers shush on sheltered shores, as soon the cockcrow quakes,
the seas descry a skittish sky, sense summer zephyrs wake  –
roused passions neath the...

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Living on a planet, unsure if I belong 
Where only sand grains and fossils, seem to last long 
The instinct to breathe air, compelling me...

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When I go out to dinner,
I do not want to share.
I don’t care what is on your plate;
I don’t want to compare.

I scan the menu...

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My thoughts drift back to my childhood days
Of so many years ago
All the family gathered by a roaring fire
Whilst outside glistens with sparkling snow

We had...

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HELLO AND GOODBYE COCO	

I wanted a brown Labrador, blonde and black ,
I love them all
But I had made up my mind, anxiously I sat waiting...

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beyond cobalt horizon’s expanse
fishing ships far offshore call to me
how joyful were those years
casting, catching, communing
lines between God and nature faded

ocean tides rule my life
joy...

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If wealth is now your blessing,
what then was the prayer?
Avarice, its goal possessing,
yet in penury, despair.

I see them often in the store
eyes ahead, regard for...

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16th April 1746
The day a country ceased to exist
British Army, Hanoverian scum
Defeated our Jacobite's
Scotland is on the run
 
Our Tartans banished, bagpipes no more
To lead...

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Breasts, boobies, knockers, **** – call them what you will
We are talking about breast cancer – and sadly it can kill

The key to success with...

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Children placed in foster care are
quickly shuffled from heart to heart.
Breaking links in a chain of love
goodbye; precedes every new start.

Wary eyes scan every fresh...

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A dragon's scale reflects the rounds of time
her heart, the subtle beat of love sublime
a secret kept in smoke and ancient bones-
a tale best told...

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When the night wind changes course
sending breezes from the north,
when farmer's fields lie brown and fallow
and empty ropes swing from the gallows,
when children's faces are...

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He’s 85 and he says he isn’t going to die.
Stooped over very badly, maybe two feet shorter now
than he used to be in his prime
and...

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