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Josh Davies Poem
The echo of the organs pipes, the absence of a breeze,
The warm and dusty air, filling lungs still mired by grief.
With a hundred looks of pity, and an air of sad unease,
I stay staring at the hull-shaped roof, breathe deep, and start to speak.
One set of dry eyes in the room; to which my sorrow does pertain,
“Too soon, too soon, too soon…” I think, but composure must be maintained
Until it can’t be any more.
Copyright © Josh Davies | Year Posted 2019
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Josh Davies Poem
It’s early August and the air is dry, I shake my head and step outside,
My small dark eyes seem so bemused, everything I see, completely new,
Spent all my life inside the roost, but now I’m free, alive, woo-hoo!
I spread my wings made from dark leather, dance over forests and fields of heather,
Flying high, I twist and turn, silently without concern,
I see the hills, the lakes, the trees, against my fur, I feel the breeze.
Down below, above the lake, insects float, my belly aches,
Tuck in my wings and close my eyes, sink through the air towards my prize,
Lithe and nimble I catch my prey, atop the water, a grim ballet.
It’s late in the morning; the sun must soon rise, yet in its brief absence, I rule the skies,
My wings have grown tired; far I have roamed, with a heavy heart I make my way home,
Where deep in the belly of a hollowed oak tree, I know that my family is waiting for me.
Copyright © Josh Davies | Year Posted 2018
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Josh Davies Poem
A bewitching duality,
Neon colours dance atop mirrored puddles,
Spectacle, iridescent artwork,
Blemished only by the rain
Copyright © Josh Davies | Year Posted 2018
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Josh Davies Poem
A twisted mesh of brambled wire,
Crudely knotted around my stomach,
My lungs fill with grief,
I cannot breathe
Copyright © Josh Davies | Year Posted 2018
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