Mousehole Poems - Poems about Mousehole

...All who have no faith in time live at peace in a timeless mousehole a hole in the fabric of nothing at all, where a moment is but a whisker that twitches infinity. Danny boy walked boldly out......

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...In the year ninteen eighty one on the nineteenth day of December A day the town of Mousehole in Cornwall, will always remember An R.N.L.I. Watson class wooden lifeboat, the 'Solomon Browne' La......

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...It is barely light; the coffee cup abandoned last night is half full of shadows. Through the window an armada of geese rows across a silent movie. A shallow doorstep of time has pardoned thi......

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...SELF REFLECTIONS These are poems about mirrors, images, self-image, reflections, impressions and self-reflection. Self Reflection by Michael R. Burch for anyone struggling with self-image......

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...Poems about Poems VI The Board by Michael R. Burch Accessible rhyme is never good. The penalty is understood? soft titters from dark board rooms where the businessmen paste on their hair a......

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...Pity Clarity by Michael R. Burch Pity Clarity, and, if you should find her, release her from the tangled webs of dusty verse that bind her. And as for Brevity, once the soul of wit— she f......

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...Enough! by Michael R. Burch It’s not that I don’t want to die; I shall be glad to go. Enough of diabetes pie, and eating sickly crow! Enough of win and place and show. Enough of end......

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...I wrote this after a conversation with an old retired fisherman whilst sitting on the harbour wall at Mousehole in Cornwall, UK ... The old man sits by the pots on the wall He looks out to sea an......

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...I pored over my weather maps contriving a prognostication, Of the weather forecast for the consumption of the British population. It comprised all the towns, villages and shires from A to Zed, To ......

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...I met a chap in an English pub and asked from whence he came. "Harumph! I hail from Piddlehinton", he pompously did proclaim! "And you sir?", he asked and I proudly puffed out my chest. "I come fr......

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...Shifting focus from farm to stars the drifting night begins where listless day turns to mist. Beyond the harbour bar boats put out to sea. By dawn the salty breeze is flecked with foam it p......

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