Devon Poems - Poems about Devon

Andrew Cooper farmer of the land, of Croyde Devon; in old England decided he'd plough some fields again? as the sun was shining through the English rain, yet some eco-loonies including a judge? hit him with fines and orders and they don't want to Want to budge.' O K he remted it to the relic's archialogical Whatsama-thingammy..Cant deny...

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when autumn’s last but long exhale left mists of winter in its trail her thoughts turned to the past to look at greenway and the paths she took where reading signs inside her skies she'd dream up deaths and alibis along the short cuts through the wood with thoughts of stabbings and of blood while fungi often made her think of slipping coniine inside...

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East Devon Beacon by Michael R. Burch Evening darkens upon the moors, Forgiveness?a hairless thing skirting the headlamps, fugitive. Why have we come, traversing the long miles and extremities of solitude, worriedly crisscrossing the wrong maps with directions obtained from passing strangers? Why do we sit, frantically retracing love’s long-forgotten signal points with cramping, ink-stained fingers? Why the preemptive frowns, the litigious silences, when only yesterday we watched as,...

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It’s early and the small town has thrown back it’s duvet of darkness and it is light. It is slowly and with the quiet of morning beginning to stir. Morning! Morning! Cheery greetings from unknown passers-by. As warm as kisses on my cheeks greet me on each street. My trainered feet trip along the pink-stone edged pavements. Cottages, pastel-coloured, like...

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Weighted calls drift across the morning sky and cats begin to stretch their licking legs. The milkman's horse sloths its way up Prospect Lane. And birds turn off their alarms and tune up their vocals whilst getting breakfast on for the kids. Distant dogs shout out 'What's all the noise?', boxing ear drums and shocking babies into crying out...

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Crisp winter red rose; moistened by snowflake; The frosted grass on a winter morning; A moonlit sky with sweet stars adorning; And Autumn trees, held alive by the rake. Two sweet, old lovers, sat on a park bench; Sat hand in hand for sixty-something years; Loving still, through heartbreak; turmoil and tears; The sorrow never weakening that clench. The...

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Devon or Derby There is something firm about nobility You will hardly ever find any mobility Unless they have a change of heart It is still unto death when we do part. All of their honor is highly displayed Do anything against it would be afraid They all appear to be mighty fine fed Look at those people with a big head. Is a...

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Rape-seed inhaled with every inward breath, Gold dust radiates telling of springtime’s untimely death, Branches twist in the suns silhouette, Perfectly framed in the blazing nectarine sunset. A pastoral turquoise and teal cloak Disturbed as foals escapade, racing for the shore. Radiant sea diamonds encrusted in their eyes. Eventually disintegrating into the sand to be no more. ...

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A Devon lass was Mary Read, Raised as a lad the pirate queen, All for her mother’s wish to succeed, To the world a boy was she seen, Elizabethan trews were her screen, So male in dress, in thought and deed. A Devon lass was Mary Read, Raised as a lad the pirate queen, Avast, she swapped the widow’s weed, The pirate’s code became...

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