Best Trade In Poems

Island Spirit

Palm trees are swaying island style
Within the gentle trade wind's flow,
As Egrets glide on salty air—
Then land where verdant grasses grow.
Breathe in sweet scents...

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In November I write of winter
  for I am weary of the old year and tired bones
I visualize all hardships blanketed with fresh snowfall
geese...

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In memory of----

Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my pulse
I sit here alone to forget the taste of air.
Overwhelm by the...

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Tiptoeing towards the edge of the towering cliff

I flap my wounded wings and fly

over tall two hundred year old oak trees

up to the top of...

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My training at Starfleet was over, they were now deploying me
I was over the moon when they called; I was full of glee
I entered the...

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I hate 
your brownness 
your whiteness, 
your blackness
your freeness
I don’t care about niceness
I’m more partial to meanness 
 
I’m all the things bad
ugly and cruel
my...

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Abigail’s Spring  

Beneath the shelter of winter’s barren arbor
My winter abused heart
Watches the day’s light linger in the sky resisting darkness -
Begging to play...

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The sun was rising over Milton Creek, heralding the start of a new day
Two new residents were due in town, on the noon train from...

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In memory of---- all lives taken by unfair justice.

 Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my pulse
 I sit here alone...

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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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I could see the virus approaching so why couldn't he?
But he had to keep investors happy and save the economy
On his watch people in their...

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WHERE THE CITY FOLK LIVE

At the confluence of the cultures 
Where the politics ebb and flow
The tide of humanity crashes
Against their collective soul

The spires of...

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Window cleaning is my trade and I want to tell my story
Like the time I saw the Vicars wife in the bath in all her...

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My Beloved,

It doesn't matter

 If it is I who comes  to you

or if its you who comes to me

All that  matters

 is to...

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I can’t breathe

still in my shackles
no chance to escape my isolation
cries of anguish emancipated
from an awareness that is unfree
the stain is but human made
a long...

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