For love is blind yet we both still see
when I love you and you love me?
And yet we hurt each other so.
In dawn's cold light we both should know.
For you have always been that girl for me,
And on many things, we both agree.
I want to make things always right,
And love to kiss when we say goodnight.
Forgive the fool that I surely am,
And help me be that better man.
As my mind goes back and I seem to stare,
At that angelic face and that auburn hair.
Where love still blossoms in this love affair.
© 2021
Nicholas a windle
Upon the webs that once were spun,
As natures breath now forms.
For tis so she weeps for summers past,
That fills this autumn morn.
Look, for can you see them,
For they dart from tree to tree.
Sprites and woodland spirits,
Splash colour for all too see.
In a token bash of tributes,
The garlands of the past.
In rustic reds and copper gold,
Leave impressions it might last.
For the lake it looks so silent,
Its waters dark and deep.
Yet it yields up no reflection,
Its secrets so to keep.
Ethereal in its presence,
The falling mist lays low.
Across the scrying glass of nature,
In the half-light morning glow.
A yearning of the things we miss,
Becomes an enchantment spell.
For what seems a dream of those unseen,
Beyond that darkened veil.
For its in our heart there lays a spark,
That fills our very soul.
And makes us whole before we go.
The life circle now restarts.
© Nicholas Windle 2020
The hours tick by before my eyes,
As I lay tucked up, in my bed.
Even Bo peeps sheep have now returned,
And still the lack of Zzz’s.
Pounding seconds tick away,
Seem to echo in my brain.
Back and forth and back and forth,
Reminiscent to coaches on a train.
Oh, what I hear myself reply,
As the shock begins to bite.
With blood shot eyes that settle down,
As the room now fills with light.
As a foot now stumbles on the floor,
Now lurching from my bed.
In a bleary haze that follows,
From that workman in my head.
A vow to become teetotal,
For at least that what was said.
From the dark roast coffee granules,
To raise me from the dead.
What a happy sounding chappie,
From the airway’s morning show.
Why should he be feeling cheerful?
With five days of drudge to go.
Now boldly going forward,
As through the door I trek.
Filled by last night’s antimatter,
From a star ship what the heck.
© N Windle 2020.
Oh, mighty ISIS.
Embers fanned that once burned bright,
Merge within the twilight sky.
Now turn to dust as all things must,
As another day passes by.
Shadows lengthen their ghostly form,
Feeding off the failing light.
For one by one to be consumed,
With the coming of the night.
Your face to touch without stretched pose,
Childlike to hold its light,
For beauty doth betwixt us so,
in your robe of pearl white.
Reprised once more the shadows rise,
Again, to walk this land.
they too seem captivated,
Your soldiers to command.
Your wonder still amazes so,
As you glide among the stars.
That pale and gentle softening light,
Bringing hope and love desires.
For whom all to see yet silent,
You sail the river of the night,
Oh, ISIS of the sleeping hours,
Please guide us with your light.
© N windle 2019
Our home feels very different,
Family life must still go on.
Caught in a void of shapeless thoughts,
It’s our faith that keeps us strong
For it’s the little things that hurt,
And the words that once were spoke.
No chance of consolation,
Gone forever up in smoke.
Do we ever know someone?
Or is only the veneer.
What beats beneath the surface,
Remains to most unclear.
In the choices that we make,
At the time seem set in stone.
As we go upon life’s journey,
More and more we seem alone.
What once were vibrant colours,
That makes up our daily lives.
As one season comes then goes,
One by one the light declines.
Eternal life is promised,
By our saviour and our friend.
In this ever-changing world we live,
There to meet us at the end.
N Windle © 2017
I stand before you humble,
For what the day may bring.
As I walk in natures heartbeat,
A part of everything.
To know there is a purpose,
in everything you do.
To trust all things will turn out right,
Especially when I’m blue.
To live within the moment,
and to do the thing that’s right.
Bring love where there is anger,
To turn darkness into light.
For to know that when I’m with you,
I breath the gift of life.
And in the comfort, of the knowing.
Our world will turn out right.
N Windle © 2017
ballad to spring.
For little robin, red breast,
On my spade, you sit.
With bobbing head, and twitch of tail,
As another season now say's farewell.
In the bracing chill skip, sprightly,
On this sun-drenched day.
Look up towards the heavens,
And be thankful come what may.
The coming days grow longer,
With life refreshed anew.
As flecks of white and purple,
Permeate among the dew.
Erupting upward shards of green,
With heads in saffron gold,
A multitude of trumpets play,
Herald forth as spring unfolds.
Under tip of twig now freshly dipped
In a cornucopia of greens.
In waives that crest, where bluebells rest,
And one can sit and dream.
For nothing say's that spring is here,
More than posies clutched, and garlands fare.
A chick, an egg, and the mad march hare,
The wild of youth without a care.
© N Windle 20017
Morning breaks
A farewell twinkle from the morning star,
As darkness leaves, on fleeting wings.
The driftwood left of yesterday,
As life anew begins.
My eyes drawn to the cliffs above,
its granite outstretched hand,
Mighty proud and awesome,
As they push up through the sand.
Never ending with relentless zeal,
The sea is pounded at the stone.
carved and weathered, in crevice deep,
as a blade that’s now been honed.
The rolling tide she beckons,
As I walk the morning shore.
Waves cry out like a sirens song,
As she enchants all, with her call.
For upon breeze it seems to say,
Come join me if you dare.
A trance like state that draws you in,
So all out there beware.
As sparkling water laps my feet,
The sensation of sand now warmed.
A shimmering sun now rising,
Signals the coming of the dawn.
With the idyllic beauty of a painting,
On which the brush still wet.
As tomorrow now becomes today,
A new canvas we shall get.
N windle
© 2016
Chinks of blue play peek a boo ,
Among the snow pearls of gray .
Stained glass windows to the heavens above ,
Upon this winters day.
Snow flakes in a frenzy fall ,
So delicate as fine lace.
In caressed like dreamy kisses,
Tickle hands and face.
Scarlet are the berries bright,
Against leaves of emerald green.
In sharp contrast against the snow,
Upon this winter scene.
For time draws near for tonight the eve,
When Santa drives his sleigh.
And those of us, who still believe,
Gives praise for Christmas day.
In a momentary silence,
I look to the sky this night.
In a thought of three wise men,
And a star that was burning bright.
My heart still full of wonder,
Brought forth by festive cheer.
And in hopes of what tomorrow brings,
Will last again all year.
? N Windle 2015
Sweet rapture
With every breath I still rejoice,
On the coming of a brand new day,
Filled with hope and expectation,
Inside, still the child at play.
Come forth the summer,and those salad days,
With skies in sapphire blues.
To run bare foot over dew tipped grass,
In a land refreshed a new.
On my face, give me the warmth of sunshine,
To hear the sounds of a running stream.
As I bathe in its crystal waters,
And lay on its banks of green.
The choral notes, can be heard from a blackbird,
As they float on the evening air.
My senses now in sweet rapture,
Lifts my soul on wings, without a care.
? Nicholas Windle
For the lark she sings in her morning song,
That brightens up my day.
The pitter patter of tiny drops,
Clouds fill the sky with grey.
The dampened ground, that familiar smell,
Now quenched refreshed anew.
Brings forth forgotten memories,
Of a time that I once new.
Like grains of sand they ebb and flow,
Those minutes of the day.
In lines of endless moments,
That brought forth that child at play.
For is this just like déjà vu
For some time I’ve been alone.
Now standing here now humble,
To all these things I’ve known.
With gentle face a youthful pose,
As we danced the night away,
A tender touch a knowing gaze,
No need for words to say.
For what is love but a feeling?
As hearts melt into one.
With the blessings of good fortune,
Now Care free and full of fun.
For they say that hopes eternal,
And all things come to he who waits.
Or is that for other people,
For nothing seems that straight.
Given in reflected thought,
To those oh so special years.
Brought back in just a heart beat,
I wipe away the tears.
© N windle
Time stands immortal our lives being finite,
Consumed in the fire of lost years.
Now gone the independence of youth,
We could not wait to grow up,
Now wiser ravaged by the turmoil’s of life.
At times fame and adulation,
And at others left licking our wounds.
Moments like us soon to return to dust,
Blown away in the winds of time.
© N Windle
For the hills they undulate and roll,
Set beneath a crimson sky.
Image liken, to castle ramparts past,
Now slowly worn away with time.
For only seconds before the dawn,
And the mighty sun to rise.
Once more its rays to warm the earth,
And ascend into the sky.
For little bird how sweet you sing,
As you usher now the new morn in.
From branch to branch flit to and fro,
Along the leafy wild hedgerow.
For amongst the green, a dusting fare,
Of pastel shades of color there.
For gentle are the flowers that spring,
Who’s petals blossom like fairy wings.
© N Windle.
The wind doth brace my body so,
As I stand astride the moor.
Invigorated by its feel,
To the sky an eagle soars.
For what splendor and sweet freedom,
Will my soul, feel such happiness.
Given all that’s gone before me,
So much sorrow and unrest.
Oh to see the sun at daybreak,
At dawn the rising mist.
To walk barefoot on the dew tipped fronds,
And to know that I am blessed.
For upon my face the warming sun,
That leaves a kiss with such caress.
Flowers with scented blossoms lie,
On their petals my head I rest
© N windle 2012
The pendulum motions to and fro,
From the clock upon the wall.
As the second ebb like grains of sand,
For one by one they fall.
Through the window of the dim lit room,
For outside, lies a world of grey,
For thoughts now turn to yester year,
That seems so far away.
With freckle on skin and golden hair,
Topped with lace like bonnet fair.
Upon a face a smile of glee,
As little feet splash in the sea.
A bucket clenched in fingers tight,
With spade to match its colors bright.
In awe and wonder of many things,
Through eyes so young that new life brings.
N Windle. MMXI.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.