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Roy Hodgkiss Poem
Blue
My favourite colour, this brilliant hue,
like my cold leaden heart, is forever blue.
Sitting alone, down here on the floor.
My head in my hands, I stare at the door.
I still hear the crash, of wood upon wood.
I no longer move, i fear if i should.
Clean-spaces stare back, laughing at me
from walls that released you, you’re living, you're free.
The stains on the wall, the dry empty drawers,
my own drying tears, for the guilt-ridden cause.
The bags have been packed, the boxes are gone,
The sobs echo out, for a lifetime to come.
Blue, now i am and shall ever remain,
Your softness, your love, it will not come again.
Good bye to my life, to my love that was true.
I failed you, yet loved you, now colour me Blue.
RTH
Copyright © Roy Hodgkiss | Year Posted 2014
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Roy Hodgkiss Poem
Of White and Gold
Heady day........Soft....... buzzingly warm.
Cool, yet gentle breezes, kiss the rippling, verdant leaves of ancient Oaks and Elms.......perpetual guardians, surrounding the swaying field of gold.
Waist-high and waving, the ripened Barley likens itself to the restless, endless, lover-like motion of the distant ocean waves.
The blanketing heat of summer, envelops the fields of gold.
Ethereal........Wraith-like..........she steps forth from the shade of guardian-oaks and strolls, with slender arms outstretched......................
Hands touching, brushing, caressing the adoring whiskered heads of Barley, as she steps across the swaying field of gold.
Her aspect shimmers, in the hot noon sun. Her full-length gown of cotton-white, blazes and clings lovingly to her nymph-like shape.
She almost glides upon the field of gold.
Raven hair, tight in confused long curls, bounces to the rhythm of her steps, framing the beauty of her elfin features.
She floats, as upon air, across the field of gold.
Her winsome smile, is in answer to the feathered songs of tribute, twittering forth from tiny bursting, hearts of joy.
The songs pour down from winged admirers with adoring eyes that swoop and dive above the field of gold. ‘Watch me!!........look at me!!’ they cry.
Elfin eyes, that glow with life, swift to smile or blaze with fire, gaze out across the swaying mass of whiskered glory, that clings to her slender legs and hips, reluctant to let her pass without touching her, as she glides across the field of gold.
With looks to melt the hardest heart.
With care enough and much to spare, this maiden, crosses many thoughts of those who know her.....................and yet...........................
...........The hungry, Green-eyed Wolf, can only stare in awe from his nearby brackenly lair. He dare not stir, for fear to spoil the progress, of the glorious maid, as she steps across the field of gold.
Even at darkest-hour, he fears to tread the realm of ‘She‘. He knows he is not worthy to touch the world where she has trod. He fears that he will be soul-burned by consuming fires, stored, waiting, vengeful and hidden among the wondrous field of gold.
This glorious ‘She‘..........................This twirling maid, is known to many and loved by all.
Twirl-on sweet maid..................across the swaying, waving and adoring
field of gold...........Fear not the Wolf...........Secretly, his heart is also yours.
Brushy
Copyright © Roy Hodgkiss | Year Posted 2011
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Roy Hodgkiss Poem
A Wolf’s Paradise
A place, where once the wolves of time, shook off their godly shields,
To come to Earth eternally, where only seasons yield.
They fashioned then, a godly place, of wood and shade and stone,
to rest their souls and bide awhile. A heavenly, earthly home.
All have tried to sing of thee, the Human, Nymph and Muse.
Of your verdant halls of ochren shades, which golden lights suffuse.
These wolves of time, have erelong passed from memory, thought and deed
And left this for humanity, a place for those in need.
A heady place, of mossen scent, this place of liquid time,
Where peace and joy, yet still abound and all this can be thine.
A fastness free, from troubles real, a place to soothe thy soul.
A drink of serendipity, true tastes of life, your goal.
Come, walk with me within these walls of wood and shade and stone.
Come, lay with me in spirit’s rest, this one true wolfenholme.
Brushy
Copyright © Roy Hodgkiss | Year Posted 2011
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