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Best Poems Written by Keith Robson

Below are the all-time best Keith Robson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Keith Robson Poem

Geisha Whispers.

Moonlight crying on white linen, fingering
lace curtains, glancing apprehensively
at distorted reflections peeping
through Waterford crystal
framed in silver,
a silence
almost apologetic
creeping through the room,
trying hard not to disturb
the softly sleeping gloom.


Melting gently through my bedroom wall,
wind chimes, barely heard
bamboo sighs,
Geisha
whispered words
that penetrate my sleep
with velvet promises from far away,
I feel their kiss upon my eyes
after the waking of the dawn
before the night wind dies.


Liquid noises scattered on the day
nudge my slumber, quietly
taking my hand,
waiting
for my eyes to see
through milky listed windows,
barely discernible visions,
fading remnants of the night
retreating shadows settled down
to sleep away the light...

Details | Keith Robson Poem

The Clockwork Butterfly.

When I was a child and my dreams were of gold
I always believed everything I was told,
my faith was implicit, my innocence pure
and magic existed, of that I was sure.

My old uncle Arthur was always in bed
his twinkling eyes sunken into his head,
he told me his stories of dragons and elves
that lived in the books on his library shelves.

On the table that stood at the foot of his bed
was an old leather box coloured purple and red,
and the lid was embroidered in threads of maroon
with the soft shining face of the man in the moon.

I asked him to show me what rested inside
and he said " Press the button, and open it wide!",
then up from the box with a deep whirring sigh
rose a magic mechanical gold butterfly.

It fluttered its wings as it gently spun round
Its beauty serene in the absence of sound,
and I was entranced by its magical flight
as it bathed in the flame of the candle's soft light.

As I lay in my bed with my head in a dream
I still could imagine the butterfly's gleam,
so I made up my mind to go back the next day
to watch the gold butterfly flutter and play.

But when I got there, the old house was in gloom
my old uncle Arthur was gone from his room,
and even though mother had tried to explain
I never did see uncle Arthur again.

That night I slept soundly, in dreams of delight
at the dawn I awoke to the morning's first light,
and there on the desk, by the side of my bed
was an old leather box coloured purple and red...

Details | Keith Robson Poem

Cutlass Beach.

Sweeping time under the carpet
Is a time consuming chore,
Like spring cleaning
My consciousness
Upon a shingle shore,
Or picking up the seconds
Strewn along the cutlass beach,
Where the moments linger sadly
Like a daydream out of reach.


Spending hours of contemplation
Where the forest meets the field,
Where the larks rise 
From the meadow
Just before the day is sealed,
Can be such an exaltation
In the sheltered heights of time,
As elusive words come slowly
And create another rhyme.


Casting petals to the river
Throwing coins into the crowd,
Just two softly borne illusions
That the seasons have allowed,
In the nest of all creation
Where the eggs of time are hatched,
Moments flutter with emotion
Just before they are dispatched.


Then they twine with every minute
And the minutes turn to hours,
As the course of life is flowing
Through those changeless hanging bowers,
Then the hours cast their garment
At the ending of each day,
Like a wordless golden manuscript
With nothing more to say…

Details | Keith Robson Poem

The Lark of Life.

In the green fields of Summer
I opened my eyes,
And dreamed of a time
Where I’d climb to the skies,
And as I grew up
With a song in my heart,
I knew it was time
For my dream to depart.


So I opened my wings
And I started on up,
For my song was my wine
While the air was my cup,
And as I looked down
To the place I was born,
The green fields were bathed
In the light of the dawn.


Then I sang such a song
In the vale of the day,
While my spirit kept faith
In a strange sort of way,
As I kept rising up
In my Abbey of blue,
I knew it was right
And I knew it was true.


The world that had borne me
Was far, far below,
At the birth of my dream
In the morning’s soft glow,
 And my song was aflame
With the fire of the sun,
As I started back down
To where I had begun.


I passed through the clouds
And my feathers were kissed,
With the light Summer rain
And the softness of mist,
I remembered my birth
As I fell through the haze,
In those green glowing fields
And those soft Summer days.


Then all of a sudden
I reached earth again,
And I looked to the sky
As I sought to explain,
How the ups and the downs
Of a life in the air,
Help my heart understand
How my life is a prayer…

Details | Keith Robson Poem

The Shadows of Forever.

In a corner of forever shining faintly far away
Are the softly burning candles of a long forgotten play,
Illuminating faintly every countenance of time
Like a poem of contrition painting pictures with it’s rhyme,
And each picture tells a story with the eloquence of life
Some are wrapped in shades of glory, others cut you like a knife,
Though when every page is painted, and its poetry is done
The candles burn as brightly as the essence of the sun.


And in that far off corner, shadows whisper of their dreams
As they dance and bind together like a ballet of moonbeams,
They remember when each shadow crept around the candle’s flame
With a sense of self identity, though they all felt the same,
Like corks upon the ocean, or like skylarks in the air
They were partners in forever, for each shadow had a share,
And the candles of forever shared the shadows sweet embrace
Like a lace embroidered veil that clings so gently to a face.


Yet sometimes in forever, there’s a temporary feel
Like the scars of every evening that just never seem to heal,
When the candles are extinguished, and the shadows join as one
They just fall asleep together, as forever wanders on
Through those never ending corridors that hide the light of day
Where each wish is cast in silence, and each dream has flown away,
And the spectres of forever keep on wandering through the night
Until shining faintly once again, they see the candle’s light…

Details | Keith Robson Poem

Where Kiss Soft Breezes Blow

She opened her eyes and she stretched in her bed, then she rose up just like a skylark
and  her eyes still glowed softly ,for she had spent dreams just dancing in the dark,
immersed in the beauty of what she had dreamed, she drifted just like an illusion
that somehow had risen  from dreamland with her, in magical dancing confusion,
lace curtained light lit her soft elfin face, then lifted her eyes from the evening gloom
that brought her arising from yesterday’s arms, a cameo Princess alone in her room,
she wove herself onto the loom of the day like a tapestry waiting for rainbows to glow
then she wandered alone through a greenwood lit walk, where kiss soft breezes blow.

She meandered so gently, lost in her song, her whole world seemed just like a stage
her melody soared she felt sorrows depart, then she slowly turned over life’s page,
 as she sighed to the sea, the sea whispered back of everything one day would bring
she thought of a time that was festooned in rhyme painted reasons that held her again 
although all she had known after being alone gave her no thought of happiness yet
she dreamed in the sunrise of beginnings again, and smiled to the dying sunset,
to the transit of Venus she raised up her heart as she felt her dream nearing her door
she had given so much to so many in pain, and yet she still deserved so much more. 

Then under her gazebo she sat by her fish pond and watched all the whirlygigs dance
and her heart skipped a beat as she pondered again upon such an endearing romance,
then she felt a soft kiss blown from so far away touch her cheek and bejewel her eyes
she knew as he neared she’d replace all her fears with  such a deep loving sunrise,
Then she drifted away on a year and a day to that place where lovers often do
she was sure of their love and the good times to come, before their lives were through,
So many moments she’d spent all alone, before all she had wished for came true
But no longer she thought there would be just a me, but now both a me and a you…

Details | Keith Robson Poem

Symbiosis

From wind that cried then softly died, until at last it merely sighed,
A memory wrapped in imaged song, without the need for right or wrong
A cornerstone of long ago, when life still had somewhere to go,
A memory intertwined with dreams, at least that’s how yesterday seems
Soft evening fog that came to call I gathered like a whispering shawl
To wrap round halos of the night, such a complex celestial sight
Of gas lit gauze in moonlit mist, cloud faces that I once had kissed
When nights were long and days kept pace, in lavender and silver lace.


A symbiosis based upon those dreams and nightmares now long gone
Came to me riding shades of grey, no need to crawl back to the day
No need to swim before I fly, just moments where we live and die
Those inter winding subtleties silk liquid shadows, satin seas
That drift me where I’ve yet to go, upon life’s subterranean flow
Then bring me to a different shore, a sort of trembling evermore
Where I can write poetic stuff, when dreams are harsh or life is tough
And when my poem is complete, I’ll rise again upon my feet.


A sudden sense of dreamless truth, such shivers from my long gone youth
Turn me into a child once more, another street, another door
That once was real, and now is gone, no more to pin my hopes upon
For symbiotic hopes and dreams can soon unravel at the seams,
And part just like a quiet psalm, that lost its temper, yet stayed calm
For all I know and all I feel is just how much life likes to deal
Those poker hands that always lose, no other outcome I can choose
Except walk in different dream, and head towards my dawn soft stream..

Details | Keith Robson Poem

Crucifix.

Blood stained wood and broken souls
blistered skin on burning coals,
blinding sunshine in your face
and no-one sang Amazing Grace.

Shadow of the cross that falls
upon your crumbling holy walls,
casts only darkness in your eye
for you can never answer why.

In righteousness you seek to be
the magistrate of all you see,
but who will judge the magistrate
who stands before his golden gate?

Scourged with mercy, joyous pain
lets you be yourself again,
screaming at the smiling crowd
casting dice to win your shroud.

Your perfect peace is agonized
and flawless faith is just disguised,
to keep your word in all you said
your unheard promise to the dead.

Details | Keith Robson Poem

Sabre Bay

A gentle cough, a quiet word, a morning breeze, a waking bird,
Into her box her letters fall, soft flip flop slippers down a hall,
A radio plays yesterdays, and on the wall a clock face says
That sometimes time talks much too loud, like ego’s clashing in a crowd,
Her percolator’s gurgling rhyme told her that it was breakfast time
So she sat in her window seat, and drank her coffee black and sweet
While musing on the day ahead, so much was still left to be said
Yet life sometimes has many lanes, and some are losses, some are gains.


She stepped outside and locked her door, then slowly walked down to the shore
Deciding that she’d start her day by wandering down Sabre bay,
Where sunlit sea touched glowing flame, and whispers never meant the same
As those that fluttered through the trees, for these were whispers of the seas
And as she walked she seemed to hear, from distant waves though crystal clear
Those messages from long ago, brought back upon the ocean’s flow
From somewhere that they both had been, a distant day, a distant scene
Where time and tide were much the same, a picture in a wooden frame.


And then she sensed them back again, two lovers in the teeming rain
Both shouting at the boiling sea, so footloose and so fancy free
Like gulls in winds they danced aloft, where even storms felt cushion soft
And from the cliffs they watched their day meander off down Sabre bay
Both clasped together with their dreams, at least that’s how the memory seems
Yet soon he had to go again, for some things she could not explain
So many suns, so many moons, so many tear filled afternoons
Despite the fact that she still Prays, her radio still plays yesterdays…

Details | Keith Robson Poem

Dream Night Silk


The evening formed shivering sable remembrances
Of so many nights before just standing in the rain,
And moonlight flickered silently over sleeping streams
A trembling golden cavalcade with no need to explain
How even in the deepest shade a lantern light will glow
A shimmering milestone leading to wherever moments play,
And when threadbare clouds cast cloaks across the glowering sky
They flap like washing on a line on Nature’s washing day.

The sacred night crept over many dark and silent shades
Ever onward turning pages to where their dream sunrise waits,
Watching distant dawn rimmed silhouettes before their image fades
While  dream night silk keeps patience, just behind its morning gates,
As on the edge where sky meets sea, soon it will meet the dawn
Where sunlight soft life’s dreams are spun around each living day
And those dream night silken whispers seem to be growing forlorn
For night and day are separate shades forever, come what may.

The night’s breathing softly whispered for the rest it dared desire
As birdsong called through diamond dusk to wake the world again,
So it curled up in a shaded corner, still untouched by mornings fire
Where it dared to dream of evensong, and wished it could remain,
Until the dawn bloomed softly and set fire to dream night silk
Looking through a window, a child’s eyes screwed up from the sun
 As it peered through a lace mist of exquisite cloud white milk 
While far away the whispering sea said daylight had begun…