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Nicky Scowen Poem
It was a dark and stormy night, or so the story goes
Another of those wondrous tales to keep us on our toes
Like looking glass and wonderland, grim witches and their spells
Peter Pan and his lost boys, the lovely Tinkerbell
The days I’ve spent lost to the world, so snug inside a book
The villains who are best of all, Long John and Captain Hook
I’ve sailed away to desert isles and walked the frozen wastes
Swum deep beneath the ocean waves; the Kraken I have faced
Sherlock Holmes to Frankenstein have held me in their thrall
But can I name just one that I have loved the best of all?
On different days I need to find a different place to be
Sitting on my daily train: oh, commuter misery
Today it’s off to Lilliput in the company of Swift
Tomorrow could be opium dens, by Sherlock left adrift
Or possibly to Mordor, to fight those pesky orcs
Or up north to Skallagrigg, to fly among the hawks
If I had a pound or two for every place I’d been
I’d be a millionaire by now, but I really must come clean
The written word to me is worth much more than any cash
A nice new book is just the thing, I’ll add it to my stash
The gadgets that are used today are all right in their place
It’s print and ink in solid form that put a smile upon my face
Copyright © Nicky Scowen | Year Posted 2024
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Nicky Scowen Poem
Pyramids in the desert
Standing silent and eternal
Watching the shifting sands
Drift across the horizon
Centuries have passed by
The sharp edges decay
Impressive still but softened
Erosion takes its toll
Behind them Cairo waits
Expanding day by day
Tourists visit camels watch
The empty royal tombs
The world is warming
Wars on all sides
Pyramids in the desert
Will outlast us all
Copyright © Nicky Scowen | Year Posted 2024
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Nicky Scowen Poem
Burn! Headbanging gold
Soundtrack to our teenage years
Life had just begun
Copyright © Nicky Scowen | Year Posted 2024
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Nicky Scowen Poem
A faded tarp, hiding such a multitude of sins
Actually a weathered hulk, with broken shattered limbs
Forgotten craft beached up high, safe from the rising tides
By wind and weather every day beset on every side
Skies grow dark and thunder cracks, the canvas tears away
Spreads its faded wings and flies, far out across the bay
Exulting in another life, another chance to be
A flag, a tent, a sail and more, just wanting to be free
The wind abates, the canvas falls back onto solid ground
And now it waits with bated breath just hoping to be found
Perhaps a child, or fisherman will find it on the shore
Some loving care, a wash, some paint - it will be blank no more
Copyright © Nicky Scowen | Year Posted 2024
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Nicky Scowen Poem
Thomas Hood said he recalled the house where he was born
He would not recognise it now, its structure is long gone
But as for me, and where I’m from, the house still stands today
Although my family home no more, I fear to pass that way
Time moves on and people change, I know that to be true
But memories from those four walls, they stick to me like glue
The garden toys, the trees to climb, the rickety lean to
The things that made me who I am, they echo through and through
We had our ups and downs, we did, what family does not
But on the whole we lived and laughed and read an awful lot
And after many years had passed, it came so clear to me
The things they went without for us, the things they made us see
I like to think I’m kind and fair, I try to do my best
Though never have I really had to put it to the test
So where I’m from, I have to say, the answer lies within
A drop of this, a pinch of that, mixed up inside my skin
And if anybody says to me, “who do you think you are?”
I’ll say who made me what I am and thank my lucky stars
Copyright © Nicky Scowen | Year Posted 2024
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