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Junior Ambrose Poem
The old man lived in a cove
where the ocean meets the sand
every night as the sun went down
by the seaside he would stand,
and look out over the ocean
at the things that he might show
and look out over the waves
at the dreams he once did know,
some say he was abandoned
some say was left alone
some say he craved for freedom
so he wandered from his home,
the only things thats certain
is when the nights are born from days
you could find the old man staring
with the seaside in his gaze,
tis remembered around the town
as the day the ocean cried
tis the day it was announced
that the ocean man had died,
the only thing thats certain
is when the days turn into nights
you can still see the old man
with the ocean in his sights,
where the wind blows the waves
to the shore without a care
if you look hard you can see him
and if you blink he is'nt there...
Copyright © Junior Ambrose | Year Posted 2008
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Junior Ambrose Poem
I take my seat upon the bus
taking in my close surroundings,
the envious faces on the street
the ceaseless noise of tramping feet
envious stares from foreign eyes
trying hard to break the binds
held together by the ties
of life in a big city,
yes all of this from one quick peek
of common life from my bus seat....
There's quite a few en route today
i make a few assumptions,
the man in fresh ironed suit and tie
a briefcase or a bag of lies
slightly disheveled looking eyes
probably been out most the night
possibly a marriage fight
maybe afternoon delight?
or holding up the common fight
of life in a big city,
yes all of this from one quick peek
of secret lives from my bus seat....
A reflective face from near the front
holds my attention as my mind begins to wander,
never turning head around
for any loud disruptive sound
eyes fixed upon the ground
at gravel roads spinning round
is this city mighty pretty?
not so sure im feeling gritty
spent my money what a pity
is this life in a big city,
yes all of this from one quick peek
of desperate lives from my bus seat....
The bus doors creak into action
in walks a girl like a slow motion movie....
cursing the man on the end of the line
talking mean and looking fine
wish it was some other time
in some other place
i picture her in a tropical breeze
i pull out a ring she drops to her knees
love blossoming beneath the trees
im dreaming now help me please
im rudely awaken by a sneeze
the girl calls out
'next stop please'
and she's gone like wind and a feather
back into a bustling city street,
yes all of this from one quick peek
through poet's eyes from one bus seat....
Copyright © Junior Ambrose | Year Posted 2008
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Junior Ambrose Poem
To turn slowly turn,
hold the wind for fleeting moments,
turn around to see you swaying ever gently in the breeze,
to know just to know,
by a squint in your eye,
or a line upon your face that creases when you smile,
that love is something often best not put into words.
Copyright © Junior Ambrose | Year Posted 2008
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Details |
Junior Ambrose Poem
This was written the moment i heard her laugh...
A laughter splits my silent thoughts and sends me to my knees,
A noise ive never heard before is fresh like morning dew,
yet harder still to remove than frost upon my window.
I watch or rather hear the drops that run like unbroken water,
in formations never tamed not unlike waves above the water.
I am left with audible memories of the sound of a girl laughing,
and freeing my heart in the process.
Copyright © Junior Ambrose | Year Posted 2008
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