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Al Parry Poem
The amber skein of autumn leaves,
embanks the tumbling torrent
of the splendid forest stream.
A salmon homes to lay its roe.
Follow her, as she curvets
the swollen falls and rasping stones.
Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013
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Al Parry Poem
Teenage Girls clad in the latest fashions,
Do it whenever they meet,
Grown men aren't afraid to show some passion,
When their team's comeback is complete,
They can say hello, they can say goodbye,
And anything inbetween,
If you open your arms and crack a smile,
There is nothing that a hug cannot mean.
Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013
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Al Parry Poem
I feel at liberty having you here,
Sitting unassumingly,
In the corner of my lounge.
Free to cavort naked as my mother bore me,
While you remain firm and sure,
Spurning your chances to,
Remark upon my togs.
Your bare coat at no time results,
In you objecting, should I open a window or two?
You never shudder or tremble.
Sometimes I hear you brush,
Tacitly, against my restful sage lounge walls.
Never do you interrupt as I prattle,
On and on and on and on,
About frivolous issues.
I furnish you with drink,
As you, tender the finishing touches to my parlour.
Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013
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Al Parry Poem
As they were sailing ‘cross the ocean deep
They watched the sunrise and the diving grebe.
When up in the top, the lookout did spy
A storm advancing, with his weather eye.
The helmsman heeded the word from above
And steered the walty gal forth at a scud.
Night tide came fast and they were flooded by dark,
The waves surged and the salty, sea dogs barked.
The raw wind cut and the rain assailed down,
As men pooled together to fight off the drown.
The dodger succumbed, and the foremast fell
The ship was immersed in the maritime hell.
As dawn broke, with only waveson afloat.
The ocean had seized another game boat.
Good men will be mourned, and the tempest damned,
We left to ponder why they left dry land.
Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013
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Al Parry Poem
The fruit of my loins are ne'er done, sleep is
Just not an option worth considering.
They much prefer the notion of ploughing
Right on. Through the wall, and not thinking
About consequences, meaning they're fore'er
Fighting and arguing and arguing
And fighting. Just one... Just one day without
Rows would be a blessing. It's not that I
Don't love them. I do love them. Of course I
Love them. They are everything to me.
Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013
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Al Parry Poem
There survives a burg, strangled by,
A fume as thick as thieves,
Where soaring glass stalagmites screen,
The adroit aggrieved.
Skyscrapers and broad avenues,
Where vast trains shunt and squall,
Where soaring glass stalagmites screen,
The vestige’s caterwaul.
Where night tide is perennial,
The gargoyles chill and ward,
Aged curves and finials resist,
Thick gnarling walls contort.
Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013
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Al Parry Poem
Housemothers twain, swaddled in sorrel fur
And bustled skirts, walking ‘tween the parklands.
Brilliant cobalt sky, above cawing birds,
Who demand substance, with their harangue?
So the fostering queens proffer their alms.
The badelynge of ducks, on polished ice,
Lambently advance with feral affray.
As morsels of cardinal fare, entice.
The attending dames in their tender, urbane way,
Have rescued these birds from another wintry day.
Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013
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Al Parry Poem
Grasp the anguish, of the dank do-
Gooder, bursting across
The local track. Kids bored silly
Outside the school, sneer as
She slips past. The brassy broad clings
In the wind to her hat,
As shoulder straps preclude her sack
From sinking, she is an-
chored by her leather bag, the last
Treasure she can hold fast.
Since the rain washed away the mirth
Of the carnival day.
Copyright © Al Parry | Year Posted 2013
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