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Best Poems Written by John Thomas

Below are the all-time best John Thomas poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Indulgence

Monosyllabic
Indivisibility,
Congratulations!

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Star Gazer

Black, white, green Quiche Moon
Whose night eye shrouds far bright star,
Close and joy will come.

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Sweet Holly, Pine and Mistletoe

Sweet Holly, Pine and Mistletoe,
Your charms I here compare;
Though Yuletide guardians of frosted snow,
‘Tis my love who’s Goddess there.
Holly berry, scarlet as shame; Who -
To her Poppy red lips, I must dismiss,
And though your sweetness doth enflame,
No bloom is sweeter than her kiss.
Pine, you’re fresh as breeze from sea, Yet –
Her perfume yields more joy;
Mistletoe, you embrace the tree, Whilst –
‘Tis with me her arms do toy.
See how the Yule has no finer place
Than my loves heart, her charm, her grace.

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Awake 'My Love'

Awake ‘My love’, embrace the light
And feel the warmth of what is bright,
For ‘Tis my love for you.
Do not stay blind, for you must see,
This warmth, this light I bear for thee,
Regard me with the love that I once knew.
Regain ‘My love’, that passion deep,
Do not dismiss sweet dreams of sleep
Unite your kiss upon my eager lips.
Without your love I’m but a shell
An echo in the driest well’,
Adrift, marooned, aground, two drifting ships.
So let it be we sail as one,
Awake ‘My love’, I am your sun.

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My Daughter - In Her Eyes

Oft’ I look and tempest see
Though tranquil be the turne’d page’
For though there’s shelter in the lea
There’s naught but peril in the rage,
Though not an Asp there be to sight –
Her admonishments Medusa like,
And Man may flee and Man may fight
Yet petrified he be in spite,
But in that ever changing book
That’s not yet wrote its chapters,
There’s joy and magic in her look
And in the hearts she captures,
Thorough tempest and tranquility
A joy of love my daughter be.

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The Ancient and the Moon

Amid fallen leaves from Autumns show,
Caught in a flickering fires glow, 
Upon fatted moon of butter white,
Gazed ancient eyes on frosty night.

Blue, woaded face turned to the sky,
Heavens orb in ancients eye, drew warmth -
Yet not from fires glow,
But warmth of soul from moonish show.

And ancient eyes held long that stare,
Drew deep upon enchanted air,
Alone no more that autumn night
Brother of shadow, cast of heavens light.

When came the dawn to frosted land
Where fires lay cold aside still hand,
And unseeing eyes lay on the ash,
Then earthern fingers took wanderlings back.

Yet, from the depths of that freeze
One ember flickered in dawning breeze,
And earth she yield, let go her grasp -
And gave her sister her ancient back.

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Broccoli

Vile vertian growth of no delight
Who will not pass beyond the craw,
Whose colour is unnatural bright,
No twig do I detest the more.
Dispatch you! For you will not sate
For hunger I would rather greet,
Your clogging florets gag the pate’
Your presence? It insults the meat!
From whence you came I do not know
You are naught upon the tongue,
A plague on those, your seeds, do sow
O rot in ground, be done!
Vile vertian growth of no delight
Be banished, ever from my sight.

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The Jester Birds Secret

Beyond Nut Wood where Jester Bird –
Gambols among the hedge,
Where daffodils are bowing
Their golden crowne’d heads,
Where regimented corn shoots
Form their military lines,
And rooks and jackdaws take their fill –
Whilst farmers head is blind;
A joyous spring this day did bring,
Filling bush with buds anew,
Where careful unfurls the cautious leaf
In fear of frost or chill;
What hand did make this day so fair –
Pray tell me Jester Bird?
But of the seven that I did ask
Not one would speak a word.

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Your Name

I whisper your name

                Feel the familiar soothing sounds and rhythms

               As they slowly tumble over my wracked torn lips,

              See them free-fall in to the abyss, ever downward

                Unseen, unheard by a busy disinterested World.



                       In that whisper I feel the loss

                   Each parting syllable cutting the memory

            Slicing as a switchblade brandished by a callous hand,

         Leaving me bleeding and afraid, yet indifferent to my fate -

               And wrestling with your final and ebbing chorus.



            But on the breeze, into the azure, your name is bourn!

         Whisked by unseen hands, carried on the zephyrs soft breath

                Eastward and homeward to Natures tender bosom,

           Away to a World unaltered, one which does not mourn loss

                    Has not the inclination nor the time.



                   It is there, among the daisies and hocks

                    And mingled with the hawthorn whites,

                   That the tussling, warm west wind pauses,

               And slowly as feather dusted pollen, you settle,

                      Midas rests, and my heart is gold.

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Yours - Today I Become Yours

Yours; I’m yours! Today’s the day;
No more countdowns, No time to delay;
Yours? - Too early to reflect; to doubt –
Doubt! - I have none; of this I am sure;
But Yours? To be owned! No to belong -
To be cherished, be wanted, be loved;
If this is to be yours, then I want to belong,
And yes I long to be cherished,
And more, much more, to be loved;
For if I am yours then you are mine,
Reflected, a mirror, yours, mine, the same;
Black, white, Ying, Yang; coupled –
You and I ‘a couple’; Joined; Yours?
Yours – Yes I become yours today;
There is no doubt, no need to pause;
Look upon me now, for forever, I am yours.