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Best Poems Written by Carol Robinson

Below are the all-time best Carol Robinson poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Carol Robinson Poem

A damp, dank odour pervades the saturated forest; pungent. acrid;
The stench an assault on the human senses:
Working subtly, slowly permeating every pore until it compromises the very heart of the forest.

Seeping easily between the debris; the residue of countless winters past;
adhering each to the other; and thereby unfolds Mother Nature’s Mantel, timely spread;
Evidencing Her committed Guardianship over myriads of tiny creatures now playing-out their annual sleep-over, before the onset of Spring,

Twisted branches, bereft of the embellishments of Summer,
Paint pictures in the half-light;
Of long boney fingers, tightly interlocked,
Strengthening winter’s icy grip on the bleak earth below.

Half-Starved birds exploit the lofty bower;
Winter, the cruelest of seasons, having savagely plundered the vulnerable amongst their number;
Huddled together for shelter deep within the uniquely transformed canopy, one constructed as a platform for moral justice - behold, Nature’s impromptu performance.

Finally, winter begins to loosen its grip on the forest habitat
Tiny dots of colour are drawn towards the warm spring sunlight,
Great shafts of light slice through the naked canopy; like Rainbow fire, igniting the full spectrum of colours as they illuminate the far corners of the forest.

While down in the virgin undergrowth, tentative journeys above ground have begun. And seedlings, like tiny white, hooded torsos, heave their nubile bodies towards the light;
Secure in the knowledge of another Spring.

Spring? Explosive, Energizing: Life Giving, Bountiful; Rejuvenates the Soul!

Flower Meadows parade their bold new Spring Collections.
Flamboyant Raspberry Reds and Passionate Purples predominate;
While cocktail led highlights in Citrus lemons and limes suggest a rather “funky , younger “ styling.

Now heavy with the perfume of a million scented petals,
the morning air begins to move and sway seductively; almost intoxicating;
In perfect harmony with Nature”s fertile pulse.

At the edge of the forest, I turned my head slightly to catch some of the sweetest birdsong l’d heard in many a long year.
Craning my neck a little further, I spotted them: high in the Bower;
those two bedraggled specimens who would no doubt have looked more the part with a little meat on their thin, fragile bones.

But their tone made it unequivocally clear,
Despite the harshest of winters and the savage assault on their Kind;
this was by no means a “protest” song.

Indeed, this was a true Celebration!
Rendered, in unison; in glorious harmony, expressing their unreserved gratitude , regardless of status;
for their place in the world.

Details | Carol Robinson Poem

Think of Me

THINK OF ME

     
Nothing is the same!  
I reach out for your touch  
but you are gone.
I am all feeling

All consuming:
Feelings of desperation
I must somehow leave behind
They pull me down
Into a dark and empty  chasm where you are not.   

But how can I live without those feelings?
the product of so many memories  of you and me, 
of the way we made each other laugh 
- and cry - 
and the  unfettered passion we unleashed upon each other 
the openness we shared 
this was the true embodiment of our love    -

My very  being flows with emotion,  
coursing through my veins  like some
Fast flowing  river rushes to the sea
Emotions  I will treasure into eternity, 
But I have to find a way to go on without you 

And so for the present, and self-preservation,
I must lock away our love so deeply in my heart
It will be as lost.

Maybe. one day when I'm stronger,
I shall be able to take our love from its catacomb 
and allow my self, just for a moment, 
to let it bloom once more

Oh how I will savour the sweet perfume of  it's Beauty!
and all that you mean to me 
Swiftly though, I must return it to a safer place
for I dare not  risk reliving
the pain  and torment of our parting. 
Think of me .

Details | Carol Robinson Poem

Grandad's Missing

There's a void, now
Where once a steadfast heart beat time
The soul in perfect harmony with life's uncertain pulse
With those who clambered eagerly in solace or in joy
To scale that mighty pinnacle
The Rock, within the bosom of the family

There's a void, now
But marvel at the structure, the firmness of the ground beneath
The strata richly layered with wisdom of generations past
A fault free seam constructing firm foundations
Binding those within the bosom of the family

There's a void, now
A hollow cavern 
echoing the anger and the pain
Trust time; it has no fear of finite elements
The source of unremitting pain
Within the bosom of the family

There's a void, now
So fill the emptiness and catalogue the memories
Harvesting the richness of their meaning
The fullness of the seed sown long ago
To bloom forever within the bosom of the family

Details | Carol Robinson Poem

Sista

My Sista’s not a bit like me
She’s everything I’d like to be
She’s pretty and witty, clever and kind
The very best sista you’ll ever find
Then  why do I feel such  gross contempt 
When people pay her a compliment?

My Sista’s not a bit like me
She’s everything I’d like to be
Her  body language says it all 
She’s confident with one and all
So why must I stifle that bitter call
“Doesn’t pride come before a fall!"?

My Sista’s not a bit like me
She’s everything I’d like to be
At school she was a model student
Her grades had no room for improvement
Achieving A’s and B’s with ease
Compared to sister's C’S and D’s

My Sista’s not a bit like me
She’s everything I’d like to be.
A child to swell Parental pride,
Creating warmth and joy inside,
While constant cries of, "Out to play"
Convinced me I was in the way!

My Sista’s not a bit like me,
She’s everything I’d like to be;
Today I glanced into  the mirror
I’m sure I look a little thinner!
I seem to be a little taller!
Oh gosh! Those curves were made to order!

Was that me or my big Sista?
No its me, a double vista,
Reflecting likeness twixt us two,
A mirror image through and through; 
Weve always been alike you know,
My new grown body told me so!

Details | Carol Robinson Poem

Wednesay's Farewell

The stadium waits, the crowd assemble
The band prepares the "Hillsborough" welcome
The air thick with anticipation
The fans intent on celebration
A strip of blue, a dash of white
Unmistakedly  a "Wednesdayite"

The cherished owl displayed with pride
Symbolic of their much-loved side
Their empathy with ornithology
of "Wednesday's" infamous football chronology
Rousing to that haunting cry
"I know I'm "Wednesday" 'till I die"
A sentiment they won't refute 
For them there is no substitute!

Details | Carol Robinson Poem

Late Comer



Spent and Battle Weary,
the exhausted figure trudges the well worn path 
like the to-ings and fro-ings of some relentless seaside donkey. 
Utterly defeated,she resumes her rhythmic rocking, almost robotic in its ministry.
No welcome here for this fretful form 

Out of time
This usurper of liberty, predator of new found freedom,
like the parasitic mistletoe as it clings to the enduring oak
Consumes the spirit
Outflanked by convention, choice simply a misconception, 
The woman capitulates before her adversary.  


The final  shades of moonlight fade from the sky.
The child, enveloped in the first vestiges of sleep,
Surrenders its hold.

The early morning sunlight precociously animates its shadowy dance;
and Fairies cavort upon this tiny form, 
playground of elfins and pixies; 
the elixir, the effervescence in champagne.

I brush the hair from the forehead of the sleeping child 
My heart is swollen
No enigma here; only my daughter

Details | Carol Robinson Poem

Human Psyche

I wonder
I wonder if
I wonder if there
I wonder f there is
I wonder if there is anything
I wonder if there is anything above
I wonder if there is anything above Self Interest

Best Poems Written by Carol Robinson

My Sister and Me

Somebody's Baby

Golfing Diva

Winter - a Hard Place

Think of Me

Grandad's Missing

Sista

Wednesay's Farewell

Late Comer

Human Psyche