When wilting wolds wing winters ‘wards one’s way;
When happenstance shall hurry haven hence;
When all the oily oafs shall overwhelm:
Then dine upon and in the finer realm,
Wherein the fragrant dreams shall recompense
Such grim endeavors as besmirch the day.
Categories:
wolds, anxiety, dream, emotions, encouraging,
Form: Rhyme
I loved you since the first time
Even though our wolds don't rhyme
At times, we were even
But now, I'm earth and you're heaven
How I wish I could climb my mountain
And find the cure to my pain
And mend the part of me that was broken
So I'll be worthy to make your heart awoken
Categories:
wolds, love,
Form: Rhyme
When the sun rises and spreads
its sticky yellow syrup across green marzipan fields
I rub the bees from the fragrant holyhock bells
and sniff the nectar.
I pull each cup to drink the breakfast dew
and taste summer mornings paste
then hear a fly buzzing by.
Trees are heavy with laden aprons of
sappy boughs, thick with unopened fruit,
Unable to set the table or move their loaded limbs.
In this warm, breathless, first blush,
slurping down the booty of the day,
inebriated in a fine stirred brew of Yorkshire hemp,
I blink to see my dreaming fairyland alive,
and paying tribute lift to toast the ride.
Categories:
wolds, august, earth, sunshine,
Form: Free verse
it's been a while since I wrote.
Sometimes I feel like I could float
between the best of both worlds
that I've created with nothing but my words.
But to pen it all down seems hard sometimes
because I wish I could have a feather quill
to spray the ink all over my papers lines.
And maybe use a paintbrush too
so I could draw the world's I've envisioned and colour it with everything about you.
Can I sing it in a song?
my words might not mean much
but I swear I'll let it all out so they can match
with the words that pour out of my heart.
For what it's worth, one of my worlds has you
and the other probably has more food
but it all comes down to the way it all feels
If it's right, I'll write it down and make sure it's real.
Categories:
wolds, cute love, life, love,
Form: Rhyme
1
O, e’er she cometh and calleth me from the barren wolds whereupon lieth the first palpitation of the laconic exchange of bashful glances;
O, whensoe’er thy dulcet voice wafteth o’er the hummock, and thy throat trilleth for none but me, mine eccentric euphoria is celebrated by nature;
O, in the untrodden tryst wouldst thou palliate the passion of mine? I pray you, do love me, fair damsel, only because I really love thee.
2
Prithee, my ladie, my beautie, tell me wouldst thou fain love me? Knowest thou I am fain to gain thee, and hope I thou art so. Once hither thou camest and didst canoodle me, wert thou fearless and didst enrapture me. Thou , undaunted, snuggle’dst, kiss’dst , embrace’dst a swain. E’er thou wast fain to have me lain on the lovers’ crimson bed. And when dost thou bestow upon me the ancient ecstasy, and sleek is the cheek of my kingly belle, feel I relieved i’th’ glaring tryst, my sweet love !
Categories:
wolds, eulogy, love, romantic, ,
Form: Prose Poetry
Oh! for the wet warm South Westerly
after the cold white North Easterly leaving
sparkling rain on each window pane South Westerly.
At night this rain paints all inanimate things a vivid
hue, while humans look care worn, some even sickly,
no longer New Year spick and span but of a drearier hue.
New snow in the Wolds as yeast in England's east, another
feast for children and adults unable to bring home the bacon.
Drains turn into ice topped streams that underneath show
water swimming like eels in a race to breed. Across the North Sea
diagonally from The Wash, heavy snow is falling in the Norge
fjords like so many Vikings on a raid for plunder, trade or conquest.
Categories:
wolds, winter, rain, snow, rain,
Form: Free verse