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......Read the rest...

...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......Read the rest...

...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......Read the rest...

...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......Read the rest...

...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......Read the rest...

...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......Read the rest...

...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......Read the rest...

...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......Read the rest...

...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 ......Read the rest...

...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......Read the rest...

...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......Read the rest...