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Best Poems Written by Suzy Davies

Below are the all-time best Suzy Davies poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Sea

The sea is beautiful, strange, and mercurial -

tour de force of nature,

since time, immemorial.

A vast mighty ocean, 

when it rises and roars,

fathom upon fathoms

down -

to the sea floor.

 

A friend of the fishermen,

the sea sustains us,

with great gifts from heaven,

yet, sometimes, perilous. 

When storms arise,

the wall-like waves

break men, like mannequins,

and few are saved.

 

Yet great ocean journeys may set our minds free,

when expanding horizons

blur sky and sea.

Away from the commotion

of day to day life,

one meditates, 

loses all track of the time.

 

Our minds

swim the ocean,

dive, and collect

the long buried treasure,

they can not forget.

They return to the surface,

and they come back, 

with stories to tell,

that arise from the depths.

 

The nature of the ocean’s,

in the paradox,

of lives it has taken,

cast ‘gainst the rocks.

Yet through our desire

to master the sea,

man traveled the globe,

made discoveries.

 

The sea has some secrets

that she likes to conceal -

she speaks in a whisper

in a conch shell.

Listen to her murmur words in your ears,

and listen, most carefully,

to all that you hear.

 

You’ll hear stories,

and legends of the sea,

of seafaring warriors

and mysteries,

of land that was plundered,

and stolen at war

from indigenous peoples -

from countries, afar.

 

And sometimes, the sea,

as she heaves mighty breaths,

steals the land back,

that the victors kept.

Hostile, inhabitable land will remain,

when the sea rises up,

to take her terrain.

Copyright Suzy Davies 06/19/2016. All Rights Reserved.

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Conkers, Bonkers

Off us two went, beneath the trees,
that crackled and snappled
in Autumn’s crisp breeze,
our wellies slish-sloshing through the pelting rain,
plip-plopping, plip-plopping
again and again.

The thunder it rumbled,
and the wind it blew
but on and on,
the adventurers, two,
rustled through leaves
till we came to a tree,
and the treasure it threw -
just for you, and for me.

Dark red-brown shiners
were there to be gathered,
the bigger the better -
that’s all that mattered!
We took them in armfuls,
filled carrier bags,
then we strung them on strings -
“Oh, what fun we had!”

Crashing and bashing,
we let the strings fly,
around our knuckles,
and up, to the sky!
Knocked them together,
till they spun around,
in a smackety wallop -
one fell to the ground!
One of the shiners
was all split into two,
twas tough on the outside,
but inside, all goo!

The champion, victorious,
announced that she won
and I was defeated, but still, it was fun!
Conkers, all bonkers,
Oh, what a game!
And when next year comes
we will do it, again.

Suzy Davies, 2017. Copyright. All Rights Reserved.

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Wanderlust

Wanderlust.

When I was young, and just a girl
I wanted to travel around the world -
Casablanca, Marrakesh,
Rio de Janeiro and Budapest.
The more exotic the sound of the name,
the more I was drawn, like a moth to a flame.

I studied the atlas,
and stuck in pins
to highlight the places
where I would be going.
I planned plane journeys from East to West,
from Korea to Siberia,
and back again.

My aunt had a globe in her living room 
and I spun it round and round, in a world of my own.
When it was getting dark, the globe seemed to shine 
with continents so vast, and oceans sublime,
each night I imagined the people I would meet,
and how I’d introduce myself,
and what they’d say to greet
this small town girl with big,wide eyes,
that gazed into the distance, as if she was surprised.
 
Copyright Suzy Davies 07/29/2016. All Rights Reserved.

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Little Einstein

Why do we call it planet earth
when water makes it blue?

Why does the sea always run away
then run right back to you?

How does a caterpillar learn to fly
with wings that are brand new?

And why do the bees go “buzz buzz buzz”
when they’ve got lots of work to do?

Why does my tummy feel kind of funny
as we drive over a road hump?

And why is my nose pointed and long
when yours is just a stump?

How many colors do we need
for a rainbow in the sky?

And do you know the speed of light
when it goes flashing by?

Copyright Suzy Davies, 2018. All Rights Reserved

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The Storm and the Sea

She sits at a window,
that faces the park
the daylight is fading,
to almost dark.
It’s almost deserted
as people return
to their flats and houses
to find the warm.

She glimpses through raindrops
on the window pane,
hearing the rush
of a long-distance train,
and onto the skylights
the rainwater beats
as she gazes below
at the shiny wet streets.

The rainwater gurgles
down all the gulleys,
the rush-hour commuters
are all in a hurry.
The traffic lights blink
and cars surge straight ahead
as flashes of lightning
crash overhead.

She stands at the window,
looks up at the sky,
and hears rolls of thunder,
cleaving the sky.
The wind through the park
it gathers up speed,
and the lounge carpet’s
lifting
under her feet.

Silent and still
she watches the scene
like a black and white movie
on the silver screen
as a trio of students
flag down a car
to take them to lodgings,
not very far.

She paces the room as the thunderclouds
roar,
louder, more angry
than they were before.
She rolls down the blind
with a fair hand that shakes,
arranges her hair,
lights her cigarette.
Then, the doorbell, rings,
and she’s there, at the step,
as a caller - her lover,
comes in from the wet.

I sit at the window,
opposite the park,
watch comings and goings
until it is dark.
The kettle is on
and I have company;
my cat and computer,
the storm and the sea.

Suzy Davies, Copyright 2020. All Rights Reserved

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On a Roll, Poem For Children

Let's roll the dice
and we'll begin,
to see what rolls and turns and spins -
an apple, falling from a branch,
a carousel where horses prance,
the ocean when it rolls to shore,
a bouncing ball across the floor,
a skipping rope going round in loops,
a brightly painted hula hoop,
the sun that dances in the sky,
our bicycles when they go by,
the world, our planet, circling the sun,
the moon on high, when days are done,
the earth, our planet, revolving in space,
an ancient, living, wondrous place.
Copyright Suzy Davies, 2019. All Rights Reserved.

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A Pigtionary of Piggies

There are piggies of The Woods,
there are piggies of The Sea.
Not all piggies are equal;
this is clear to me.

There are piggies who sing -
and they make a lot of noise.
There are piggies - stuffed animals;
it's clear they're simply toys.

There are piggies who are GLAM,
there are piggies who are DRAM,
there are piggies who simply are TRAGICAL.
But of all the piggies in The Piggy Universe -
Luna - The Moon Pig is most MAGICAL!

With the WIGGLIEST of tails,
and a heart that's full of LOVE,
LUNA - THE MOON PIG's
guided by the STARS above.

Yes, Luna's the piggy
with CHOCOLATE-DROP EYES,
and wherever she wanders,
there's a SHINING MOON on high!

There are piggies of a season,
when the summer is here,
there are piggies of the springtime,
when the flowers all appear,
there are piggies of the autumn,
when the tumbling leaves turn brown -
and piggies just for Christmas,
when Santa comes to town.

But, whatever the weather,
LUNA is THE ONE!
She's happy and clever,
full of OINKINESS and FUN!
So, I'd like to invite YOU,
without further ado,
to have a friend in LUNA;
she's here the whole year through! 

Copyright, Suzy Davies, 2022. All Rights Reserved

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Prayer For the Earth

Don’t talk to me of justice,
Don’t talk to me of pain,
Don’t talk to me of slavery -
it’s too hard to explain.

Don’t talk to me of freedom,
cos we all pay the price.
We strike out on our brothers -
and do it more than twice.

Don’t talk to me of a new Peace
all across the globe,
The streets are paved with bloodshed,
yet we say they’re paved of gold.

Yeah, Yeah, Yeah,
listen and you’ll see,
the violence and destruction
It’s too hard to believe,
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah,
listen to the sound,
There is no room for breathing
as a man’s tied to the ground.

Don’t talk of changes coming,
we dare not hope today.
Cos promises are tomorrow,
and freedom slips away
We march with distant voices,
that fall upon deaf ears,
we’re marching for our brothers,
with hearts so full of fear.

Just give me one last promise,
that Love comes shining through;
the bright star of creation,
a start of something new.
A sign that change is coming
when something in us moves,
and the world is all together,
and joined in Grace and Love.

Copyright, Suzy Davies, 2022. All Rights Reserved.

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The Artist

From my window, I see him.
Squalls of wind wire his hair,
charcoal snaps and smudges
between his fingers.

The tide churns debris
to the sands.

He reaches for another piece,
measures
the rocks,
huddled together,
where tide meets shore
sky, the water.

The iron colossus of the pier
grinds in the gale,
gulls screech;
he paints their feathers,
soft, ethereal,
ghost-winged.

Paper buffets
in the breeze -
he nails it,
flapping onto a board,
with pins.

His skin’s
ruddy.
He wrestles
with the canvas,
a boy bringing in his kite.
My words
paint his character
submerged
below the surface.


He’s at one with this
corner of the world.
Words roll
with the surf,
then crash
and burn. 

Suzy Davies, Copyright 2020. All Rights Reserved

Details | Suzy Davies Poem

South Korea Spring

In this city,
concrete and glass,
ancient temples,
and hidden parks,
on this river
were made our schemes
to break with tradition,
with K-Pop dreams.

Ajoomas walk here,
comfortably clothed,
in western styles,
young beauties pose,
taking photos
under the trees,
couples strolling
in the breeze.

The sound of windchimes
fills the air
and you laugh
and toss your raven hair,
follow the clouds
of blossoms, pink-white,
hypnotic fragrance
through the night.

Suzy Davies, 2019, Copyright. All  Rights Reserved.