She creates her world at night,
Her mind becomes a beacon of light,
Illuminating the dark corners of her mind.
She sees beyond her surroundings,
And in the stillness of the night,
The universe within her emerges,
She scripts these mysteries.
He crafts his art in a dimly lit room,
His mind flourishes in this ambience.
The designs emerge from the shadows,
Like a blooming meadow at dawn.
He sketches these creations,
And then they come to life.
I am a child born of the union of the two,
Two worlds dwell within me.
Sometimes I become a turbulent sea,
I create my realm at any time,
As long as it is an endearing clime,
Mysteries linger in my chamber,
And sometimes the unseen walks into my slumber.
She is gifted yet sometimes troubled by her abilities;
He is skilful and dutiful, yet haunted by the tendrils of the night.
I am a skyward architecture of the first and a budding of the second.
At times, I traverse strange pathways,
Together, we seek redemption.
August 30, 2025.
The wordsmith’s art is a game of chance,
Where meanings dance and ideas trance.
A deft hand wields the pen with grace
A subtle symphony, a nimble chase.
From arcane whispers, and secrets told,
To audacious strokes, both bold and old.
An amiable muse, with a gentle heart,
Inspiring words that tear apart.
A clandestine plot, a cunning scheme,
With boisterous laughs and jovial gleam.
Words ebb and flow, a vibrant tide,
Capricious, and whimsical, they cannot hide.
Some dance with flair, with eloquent might,
While others fade, ephemeral in the light.
An egregious error, a poignant plea,
An insidious plot, a symphony.
We seek the luminous, the serendipitous find,
A moment of joy, to soothe the mind.
With cunning wit and a sly remark,
A raucous laugh, a playful spark.
Through boisterous humdingers, and shenanigans,
A wistful sigh, or a sweet, mawkish stance.
The playwright’s art, a dance so grand,
A poignant twist, with a skilful hand.
Let us savour this exquisite game,
Where words intertwine, an artful flame.
So open your heart, let language soar,
The play of words, forever!
PARROT PAIR
Parrot pair perching on branch,
thinking deep, also taking rest,
where to build a cosy nest,
both being devoted and stanched.
Parrot couple yearn for nestling.
In mating season coming close.
Natural ! Love with lust arose,
through hidden parental feeling.
Twigs, leaves, hay, feral grass to pick
as building blocks, materials ,
collecting all essentials.
Skilful birds to use curvy beaks.
Natural instinct of all species :
To survive through evolution,
caring, nurturing the young ones.
But birds do care for too short sprees.
Not guaranteed in coming year
will meet or mate same parrot pair.
Mating period: Season spring
is sure to greet lovely offsprings.
Arthur&Georgina Gaskin
skilful&innovative from Birmingham
Arts&crafts was their life
a very creative husband&wife
Faith filled fervency in fellowship with family and friends
Always advising with amazing authority and austerity
True pastor-teacher and talented Jack of all trades
Humble, honest and handsome, he is my hero
Exemplary evangelist with experience and excellence
Robust and reliable, he restlessly runs our residence
Sincere, skilful, smart and sharp-witted with a sensitive side
Dynamic, dauntless and dear, he has a distinctive personality
Articulate and able, ablaze with abiding, ardent love
Yeah, he loves yard work and yearns for yonder heaven.
05.17.2021
For L Milton Hankins' "A tribute to fathers" contest
There was I in my early twenties
sitting bored on a Sunday afternoon
mu mum suggested, get a hobby
but being a loner was well out of tune
My mind was blank till mum said
learn guitar, my son, well maybe
so I bought an acoustic guitar
then got lessons to learn my key
As I started learning some real tunes
it seemed I should've begun while a teen
but some progress I was actually making
after a year thought what might have been
So gave it up, wonder why?
probably not dedicated far enough
but now really appreciate class
guitarists playing real splendid stuff
My experiences make one appreciate
the skilful play of these in master class
like Bream, Williams, Romero and the like
inspiration they do bring, pray not to pass
(I recall here my early 20s and making effort to learn guitar which was not to be but learn to appreciate those who could especially in the classical field.)
gestures
free&loose
unconsidered
assumptions
subject to invention
oftimes
open
yet
crystal clear-
pure
joy
skilful
realms of gold
of longing
legends
of
the
heart's
desire
Taking a head stand in a stand-off position
coarse necklace of boulders draped around her neck
Well balanced through bronze ankle shackles
from a heavy weight anchor ground into ground
Rosary too endless for desperate prayers to settle
suspended from lonely helpless unlimited chains
Nails oozing blood with razor-sharp thorns
inscribed into what was a fine cutting mind
Wreaths laid to rest crowned in salvation
confining time and space of remote aspirations
Bracelets jingles and bangles from unburdened prime
underpinned by primal desire and from Munch’s scream
Dangling ropes braided from heart sunken feelings
a traveller’s skilful reminder of knots holding firm
Life is a wheel and a circle and impermanent loop
and a coffin draped in flowers with nobody at home
02nd May 2019
Four long years have past, World Cup here at last
Thirty two teams full of hope, live their dreams
from all over our world, adorers massed
Within Russia's realms, friendship to extremes
Football fever, expectation from fans
Nil nil will not suffice on or off the pitch
technology enforces rules and commands
Our beautiful game for all, poor or rich
soccer is sport, brings most nations together
With one aim our team to win is our goal
play in sun or rain whatever the weather
skilful athletes, architects of ball control,
enjoy the comradely, pleasure and joy
cheer your home team when they score
let’s compete on the football pitch oh boy
it’s got to be better than on fields of war.
June 17 2018
2018 World Cup Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mark Toney.
Have I ever told you?
I was smitten with you then
when we first met.
A quiver ran down my body
by your single look.
Your fine archery
couldn't have missed the shot
as your crossbow-eyes
aimed at me
and your piercing sight
like an arrow wounded my heart
with venom of your lethal love.
I couldn't have survived
your fatal attack
if you didn't aid me
with your skilful nursing
infused with adoration.
You almost healed me
with your romantic treatment
and medicines made of love
but residue of that venom
still runs through my veins
in my blood and fills my heart
with unruly passion for you.
I was too ignorant
to know then but I know now
that I am captivated by you
and your tricks forever.
You know how to make me
suffer for your love.
You are the one to make me ill
and you are the one to cure me.
Darling, you are my malady
and you are my only remedy.
I am still smitten with you
and will be forever.
Date: 11/12/2017
A skilful magician - was glad and proud.
Sitting in the cell, he did not lose a heart.
Just clicking with finger he quickly took out
Eggs, chickens and rabbits- from his shabby hat
I've never been a gambler
For I've never liked the odds
And out the horse racers
Seems a hell of a job
I don't like the pokies
For it seems a waste of time
Looking at the colours
As they run around in kind
I am not skilful at cards
For I could never bluff
So now I ponder hard
The odds is not enough.
© Paul Warren Poetry
Men dressed in top hats and tails
Ladies in designer dresses and fascinators,
Bookmakers standing by the rails
Taking bets singles or accumulators,
Epsom downs, Derby day classic
The best of three year old equines,
Tensions heightened becoming dramatic,
Punters drinking champagne and wines,
Beautiful majestic Arabian athletes
Parade in front of the stand, so elegant,
Coats shining, muscular, nothing competes
Showing their professional temperament,
Jockeys in pristine silks so colourful,
Trainers and owners in the paddock,
Stall handlers loading horses so skilful,
Under starters orders ready to gallop,
Stalls open, up goes a roar from the crowd
One and half mile to the finish and victory,
Last furlong favourite in the lead, cries so loud,
Another exquisite young Colt makes history.
On June 3rd 2017
We write on this wonderful site,
As a bonus we can write for free,
Because it's all about the poetry,
Clever one liners or an essay about a tree,
True stories, nature, or a mystery,
Because it's all about the poetry,
Sad writes, fun writes, long or short,
Tributes wrote with extreme honesty,
Because it's all about the poetry,
We can read poems that fill us with glee,
Works of art become part of our history,
Because it's all about the poetry,
This social site is about you and me,
Never mind if we live local or globally,
Because it's all about the poetry,
We can express our views,
Compliment other poets artistry
Because it's all about the poetry,
Poets so clever, skilful, full of ingenuity,
So this is the end of my rant hope you agree,
It's totally all about the wonderful poetry.
How beautiful the sounds, sights of nature
In the distance alarm call of a cuckoo,
beautiful sound of summer Tanager
Blackbirds hopping around getting in a stew,
Acrobatics of swallows, swifts, Martins,
Crows of the carrion, rooks, jackdaws, Raven
Cooing of turtle doves and wood pigeons,
Chittering robin, eyes closed what heaven,
Finches so sweet, green, bull, haw, gold and more
Speedy blue, great, coal, willow and marsh ****,
nature is such a pleasure never a chore ,
Seeing these wonderful birds thrills two bits
Serenity while watching our game bird
Pheasant, partridge, grouse, geese and mallard duck
Graceful swans glide, sights and sounds must be heard
Wading birds sifting for food through silt and muck,
birds of prey, kestrel, sparrow hawk, Peregrine
Eagles, buzzards, goshawk, ospreys skilful hunters
Larks hovering, lap wings, owls, magpies so pristine,
Sea birds, waders, hunters, lovely colours,
These moments of relaxation, undisturbed
listening, watching our beautiful wild birds.
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