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Ron Matthews Poem
The deforestation of my mind
Where the trees of abundance
Hold my memories in their sacred branches
And the happiness that drips like dew
From the salaciously orgasmic leaves after
photosynthesis...
© tcmoon 2014
Copyright © Ron Matthews | Year Posted 2014
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Ron Matthews Poem
Take a moment
On the seashore
Raise up your eyes
And look to the sky.
What do you see
In a sky of blue,
I ask, do you see me,
Looking back at you?
The songs I have been singing
Were written from the heart.
You are so close, so close yet,
We’re a million miles apart.
I can see into your heart
From the shadow of your smile.
I see into your soul
From such bright loving eyes.
Take a moment
In a buttercupp’d lea.
Listen to the birdsong
I sent to you from me.
The song they sing so sweet
I wrote with you in mind,
It tells of the love I’ll feel
Till the very end of time.
I sing it to you
From wherever I am,
Adrift at sea, from
Everywhere I may be on land
And the songs I have been singing,
I wrote them all for you,
About the love within my heart
And cos I now. You love me too
Don’t you
Don’t you.
Take a moment
Gaze upon a cloud;
Whisper my name tho’
You don’t have to say it out loud,
No-one else will hear you
Except the sky and
She will sing to me
And pass your message on.
Take a moment
Hold onto my hand.
Image my lips pon yours
While we dance sallow in the sand.
Then, in just a moment,
See me on the sky
And know that, I will love
Long after the day I die
In that moment you will know
I will forever love you so...
© tcmoon 2008
Copyright © Ron Matthews | Year Posted 2014
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Ron Matthews Poem
I FELL TODAY
I fell today
As the lights over Europe dimmed
To a whisper;
The voices of war
Slipped on the artist's palette
Painting as she did
Flowers of blood
Upon the sky
And they remembered.
Swallowed by waxen candle light
The tallowed flicker
As a marker on horizon far
Brings the boys into line
Brings the boys home.
Who knew, mothers of sons
Who stretch the quagmill'd heresy
Of humanity;
The time has come they cried
The time when death fills
Nostrils sickened
By decapitated flowers
Twas where I fell...
Mother, unashamedly, I cried.
For you.
The first bullet of conflict,
Who knew?
Marked with my name....
I fell today as candles extinguished
To be relit around Christmas
When we all troop back
Across the Channel
Now a peaceable sea of glass
And victory is ours but...
...Mother, I fell today.
I arrived this morning,
This isn't how they said it would be;
My light has dimmed.
My heart beats no more.
My body is cold in clamm'd soil
And England is a mem'ry distant.
I wonder, in a hundred years,
Will they still remember that,
I fell today?
tcmoon 2014
Copyright © Ron Matthews | Year Posted 2014
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Details |
Ron Matthews Poem
She was French
without being continental;
without language.
She was French
the Channel could not part us
our hands clasped often.
She was French
She'll ne'er be forgotten
she was all mine
for a while;
She was French
without being, well, y'know.
And she loved me...
She is French
still;
I love her
still;
She is French...
tcmoon 2012
Copyright © Ron Matthews | Year Posted 2014
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