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Best Poems Written by Paul Rees-Jones

Below are the all-time best Paul Rees-Jones poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Through the Windows of Her Eyes...

In the solitude of night,
comes drifting,
the long haired beauty,
silhouetted by the moon,
stars shine from her eyes,
like pixie dust falling,
a sweet sweet sting,
I need her,
to see,
See me from that sky
I want her, 
I want her,
as I call to her above,
wishing to hear the song,
through the window of her eyes,
I fly…..
up through that sky,
to the moon of golden light,
to capture that beauty,
as stars shine from her eyes,,
like pixie dust falling,
a sweet sweet sting,
I need her,
I need her,
to see me…
like a song,
like a kiss,
like a breath,
on her lips
through the windows,
the windows…
of her eyes.

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The Logic of Flight.

Feathers left to wind,
Float for a time but still fall,
You need wings to fly.

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If.

If Peace was a giggle,
We would laugh all the day.
If hope was a whistle,
We would sing a thousand tunes.
If a hug was the sunshine,
We would never be in shade.
If a kiss was a lifetime,
It would end much too soon.

If dreams were horses, 
We would gallop through clouds.
If smiles were meadows, 
We would run barefoot and free.
If wishes were raindrops, 
We would stand and get soaked.
If love were the trees, 
Would you climb one with me?

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Madness of the Guilty Drunk.

I dabble in that which seeks the night in false bitter screams,
For in this wandering fading grip I hold onto dreams.
Some say I am a bit insane in fortitudes embrace,
Yet I drink the fire to blind my eyes from that devil’s face.
I invite you all to sit down and witness all the beasts,
Have a sip, pour a glass, it is the window to the feast.
Don’t look at me with judging eyes until you down the glass,
For things will clear, come to light, when held in truths bitter grasp.
I dabble in that which seeks the night in false bitter screams,
I down the drink, I hold the pint, and whisper to the dreams.
And now I sway, glass in hand, tell tells of lost battles won,
The heavy heart, the solemn tears brought forth by glasses done.
The eyes grow weary, the hands shake, the slurring songs are stilled,
Still I reach for the devil’s fire as the mug is refilled.

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Footprints.

Follow me,
As I walk upon the sand.

Thinking deeply,
Of footfrints left behind.

Imprints,
Copies,
Of places I have seen.

One moment vivid,
With wave…
they become unseen.

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When Left To Dream...You Find Me Crying.

Ramshackled heart,
rusted chains of indifference,
scars the arms with jagged cuts,
lines encased in deep throated laughs,
gagging on the insolent indifference.

Walk that mile in shoes of lead,
weighted down with suffrance,
magnetized with fetid truths,
masks of righteous lies,
and truths that barely scrap the earth.

When eyes are opened,
the ones sewn shut,
and the brightness blinds for moments,
the stinging breath of something known,
this life is just the dream.

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Lullaby

Sweet child,
With eyes full of slumber,
On yawns of sleepy wonder,
My darling of the night.

Rest child,
Let those eyes close to dreaming,
That land of imaginary meaning,
My lovely sleepy babe.

Sweet child,
In lands of rainbow bridges,
That world of chocolate ridges,
My tired precious one.

Run free child,
In your place of endless playing,
Where you know what the animals are saying,
In dreams made for you.

When you awake,
I’ll be here for you waiting,
With arms made for hugging,
My very special child.

Sweat dreams…

Details | Paul Rees-Jones Poem

Me and My Shadow

I spoke to my shadow,
My other self,
About days that came and went.
We spoke of loves, 
We spoke of lives,
That passed us
In our sleep.
We laughed at moments,
Our childish ways,
Long lost,
In the fog of haste.
I took his hand,
Held it close,
And smiled.
We walked a while,
Under sun and sky,
remembering…
What was me.