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Best Poems Written by Linda Bolt

Below are the all-time best Linda Bolt poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Linda Bolt Poem

Sir Francis Drake

In 1588 Sir Francis Drake,
over a game of bowls, his time he did take.
Saying I’ll play my game before England’s fate.
So the Spanish will just have to wait!

There once was a young sailor named Drake,
who some thought was a bit of a flake.
On Plymouth Hoe he stood
while playing with his wood 
not knowing that history he'd make.

Drake was from the Elizabethan era
finishing his game as Spain drew nearer.
A stubborn man and quite contrary 
until he died of dysentery!

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2021



Details | Linda Bolt Poem

The Picnic

Stood by the river throws a pooh stick
suddenly, I hear “nanny come quick.”
The water went splash
a dog a mad dash
crossing the river to nab our picnic!

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2021

Details | Linda Bolt Poem

My Favourite Day

My favourite day, was sunny
birds where in the sky
I remember it distinctly 
It was a day I didn’t cry.

My favourite day, was xmas
for presents I didn’t reach
Instead I just laid there
On a warm, sunny beach.

My favourite day, you came to me
Oh my,how you did howl
this small little person 
all snuggled in a towel.

My favourite day, I went to sea
on a mighty big boat 
Cruising from isle to isle 
I’m so glad we stayed afloat.

My favourite day was yesterday 
For my family I did see
laughing as the clouds rolled by
while drinking cups of tea.

My favourite day was perfect 
Believe me for this is true.
My favourite days are definitely 
the days I share with you.

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2021

Details | Linda Bolt Poem

Old Souls

Old souls once loved and grieved
long forgotten all they achieved.
Laid to rest in an old churchyard
With a solitary tree standing guard.
Eternally sleeping peaceful and shaded
names they once had, long since faded
Memories entombed behind a dry stone wall,
with the soothing chirrup of a sparrows call.
Overgrown grass, dead flowers rot
as these old souls are long forgot.
Now distant echoes of another time 
Slowly disappearing as weeds entwine

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2020

Details | Linda Bolt Poem

This Place

Deep in a valley there is this secret place,
a place to relax with the sun upon your face.
The only way out is to climb up hills so steep
all that you can see is fields of grazing sheep!

Surrounded by restless trees rustling in a grove.
The crackling of a log that burns to heat a stove.
The cawing of a bird and the buzzing of the bees
a trickling from a stream the mind is puts at ease.

When the night-time comes, take off your walking boots
then along comes a tawny owl who sits alone and hoots.
While sitting on your deck with a million stars above
You will feel at peace and this place you’ll surely love.

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2021



Details | Linda Bolt Poem

Jacks Letters

Jack was always a happy soul,
Just a shop boy with a sweetheart.
When the war called men and boy 
Their lives were torn apart.

He wrote letters to his sweetheart 
Saying we'll be married someday.
he wrote letters to his mother 
And Inquired about her day

he would write to his little brother 
telling of the horrors that he saw.
And of how the bloody fighting wasn’t 
the only killer in that war.

Taking boys as young as fourteen,
hunger and disease had played a part.
While loved ones filled with sorrow,
Had died with a broken heart.

Then came the fateful day 
his loved ones had lived to dread.
All of the letters they had sent,
come back unopened and unread.

MIA 
they wrote his heartbroken family
their kin was lost to war.
They never found his body,
Coming home, he never saw.

A young man of just nineteen,
They had named him jack.
They lent him to the army,
And never got him back!

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2021

Details | Linda Bolt Poem

Freesia

The sweetest fresh aroma filling a room.
   tufts of narrow leaves a summer bloom
               like trumpets all in a row
                  on Wiry stems grow.
                        Colours bright
                            graceful
                           a delight.
                    Used in bottled scents 
                     a symbol of innocence.
         Pure white chosen for a wedding day
   proudly adorning a blushing brides bouquet.

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2021

Details | Linda Bolt Poem

The Autumn Tree

The Autumn tree has shed its very last leaves,
Standing now barren its loss it still grieves.
Brisk winds carry the leaves of red and gold,
Rising like a vortex the tree shivers from cold.

The Autumn tree is waiting for winter to call,
Bracing itself for the first snow flakes to fall.
When Jack Frost comes nipping at its roots,
And a winter owl sits on a branch and hoots.

The Autumn tree is frozen all covered with snow.
When the winter blizzards tempestuously blow,
Icicles hang on branches like crystals they shine,
Children skating beneath it the scene is sublime.

The Autumn tree covered in a blanket of white.
To survive the cold winter must put up a fight.
As the Autumn tree waits for the season to end
It begs Mother Nature a warm sunshine to send.

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2020

Details | Linda Bolt Poem

Dark Demons

Dark demons sent to taunt me
within my mind, they often play
In my ear, they quietly whisper
On my woes, they love to pray.

Pitiful pleas for mercy
Are sadly made in vain 
to their whispers I’m addicted 
From feeling joy, I now abstain.

Guided to where I’m destined 
exhausted, mentally drained 
despondent I willingly follow 
as whispered words are feigned.

Oblivious I’m lead from reality 
convinced there’d be no pain
taken further into darkness 
Where my tortured soul lies slain!

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2021

Details | Linda Bolt Poem

The Siren

There are told ancient tales of mystery,
of singing maids beneath the sea
with golden tails and flowing hair
how gullible sailors they do ensnare.
Enchanting words their perfect pitch
With their voice, they can bewitch 
entranced naive souls, to enslave 
enticing them to their watery grave.

Copyright © Linda Bolt | Year Posted 2020

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