Best Verges Poems

Do not vainly look in those remote
Places,
That, once, were acquainted with a 
Small part of me;         ...

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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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Of PAN and MAN

Beyond the hedgerow bright with bloom of May
Our daily lives move on with purpose strong 
From where the thrush and warbler sing...

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They’re drawing the curtains in Dorking,
Lighting the candles and pouring the lotions.
Switching off TV’s and shelving resentments,
Checking on children asleep in the darkness,
Creeping  ...

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Dreams like light-waves,
in my memory.
Birds of loneliness,
night-songs,
flowering days,
gone.
Tides,
waves of silence
forced 
into daydreams.
The horizon,
verges – dissolving
like far desires.
In the hours of silence,
falls remembrance 
like autumn leaves
in...

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I watch him closely as his tiny forehead furrows in concentration. He is so focused, so determined as he clutches the puzzle piece with chubby,...

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Previous dawns flock together, 
gather.
The hedgerows accumulate 
with old and new. Sprigs and twigs 
bend under the weight of 
heaping feathers.

If eyes open too soon
then...

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Clinging to sunny Bognors regal
skirts
At his Majesties most royal verges
The readied hand thrusts upon the 
lever,
And, shuddering, She forward lurches.

Clanking ominously over diesel fueled
growls,
Expediency, they...

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leafy, tree lined lanes
    rich,  wild flower verges -
    damselfly sparkles...

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IF EVER I HAD A COUNTRY : LXXIV

IF ever I had a country proud of its sacred Soul Patrie
And if ever by a long shot...

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Dark eyes gleaming, across the room
a cobra's blackness, hypnotic in the gloom
seizing the attention of her wine drenched mind 
he always does so well, with...

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First you march through fields--
Green, but choked with weeds.
Until one day chance drops the Bomb
And the world explodes before your eyes.

Never have radar eyes seen...

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It was a short walk I intended to take
To while away time that I did not have
For I had lots on my mind and hands...

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Goodness, I nearly lost my balance on the spiral seashells and broken sea stone chipping matrix.
My quaint obsession with marine life and that skyline paradox...

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Childhood memories,making camps upon the moors
 wriggling through the bracken deep,
Making paths to our secret den.
Climbing trees,and falling too!
Moss on stones, glistening sun on stepping...

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