Mike Poems - Poems about Mike

Forget the night’s storm when you get out of bed. Forget lightning and thunder the way the house trembled Forget your deepest fears that the world would end, Open your eyes. Embrace the kiss of fresh air. Revel in the sight of the early sun. Welcome the reflections of drops on succulent grass— o how a touch of rain brings new life. (Folding mirror form) ...

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waking to rain remnants of the storm the cat prowls past my bed memories of love stir I’m alone in the silent room my heart beats the sun bleeds through clouds a poetic leap trees sprout leaves to live is to live again trees sprout leaves a poetic leap the sun bleeds through clouds my heart beats in the silent room I’m alone memories of love stir the cat prowls past my...

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He was an actor and a singer and his name was Mike Berry. If you're wondering how talented he was, the answer is very. He starred in "Are You Being Served" and "Worzel Gummidge" as well. When it came to being a British singer and actor, he was bound to excel. He also starred in one episode of "The...

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sunny day spring whispers outside my window ...

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If Not For morning would be just morning the sun would hide behind clouds stillness would be without meaning the road would lead to nowhere the skies would be without promise my life an empty page ...

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Sunlight leaks through the curtain after I’ve thrown off the covers. Downstairs the television flickers as a roommate sleeps on the couch. He was talking politics last night. I went upstairs and read a poem. This morning I walk into the kitchen and turn off a dripping faucet. The furnace hums to fight off a chill. The calendar says spring as if my life has just begun. I go out for a...

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A friend said a little mulch and planting is what it takes to transform a yard. She bought flowers in spring as a gift to herself. She laid the mulch and planted the flowers around a tree. She cried out for last night’s storm and all life a touch of rain could bring. She said after her divorce every transgression could be forgiven with a little sun. After moving back to her hometown it was time...

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Grey skies in March as I walk through the littered yard. The grass is brown. No one sees me except the man across the alley loading scrap into his pick-up. We talk weather— snow two days ago today mist and rain while we bear the weight of our lives. He says he’s laid off but hopes to return soon. I talk about lost love and an empty heart. We agree we want to...

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sun breaks through clouds as I stand alone sprouts through ground a day in spring the time to live again ...

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Lives of residents collaged as their portraits hang from a gallery’s ceiling and spotlight shine upon their faces. They are old they are young they are boys and men they are girls and women these people who have called a small Iowa town their own. Some have posed in fields some by their houses and they frown or smile their faces offering reflections of the lives they’ve known but in their eyes, I...

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The light is bright as I slip from under the covers yet the house groans and creaks and the ghost of winter lurks within the walls. When I was a child a teacher said first there was light but I remember the night I danced under the cover of darkness. When I go downstairs the sun shining through the window shows clutter, life’s imperfection as I slip from the...

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This day in early March sings in a gust of wind it brings the season’s change life I’ve known rearranged one day warm the next cold nature’s changing moods to behold when each day when I’m awake nature’s tempestuous moods to partake. Talk of the weather brings smiles and frowns what goes up also goes down and as we face our days of strife the next...

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endless in my mind’s eye endless like memories reflections of love and desires felt since I was a child now I drive the highway drifting clouds are islands and they reflect the sun as if the day has just begun a river flows by my side people in the diner reminisce about how life changes but still goes on and children eager to move out of town end up living their...

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morning walk in spring I’m seeking empty spaces stillness in the middle of the city babbling creek by my side whispers thoughts washed away moments of solitude only moments matter the sun peaks through a crown of trees a touch of gold my meditations I breathe branches rustle the world opens its arms silent wonder lines of a poem come from nowhere felt before understood although I lived one thousand busy lives I’m learning to live again...

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A woman’s voice said Look out the window and I saw a ravine with a fresh cover of snow. I thought it was the neighbor but I was alone. A thicket of trees reached for the sun yet I noticed one was fallen its age born in its rings. Two cats lay on my bed as I took in my visions of a pastoral scene. a day in February in the middle...

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