Read Poems by Keith Bickerstaffe

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He hurries home late from the office
and hesitates out on the lawn,
the mists are swirling like her dress,
the moon is frowning down.

The music in her soft blue eyes,
that hungry look upon her face
makes him tremble like a teenager
fumbling his first date.

Hoping she's gotten home safely,
beguiled by her lingering perfume,
his wife and kids are sound asleep,
he tiptoes through the family room.

Bedeviled by such fervent yearnings
full-compounded day to day,
a strangled heart, a tortured soul,
old love, new love - there is no easy way.

Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2016


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  1. Date: 1/18/2017 2:36:00 AM

    I don't know if you have ever lived thru one of these times, but you sure write like you have. True - for it stalks every man and if you engage, then 'full-compounded day to day'. Excellent poem.
  1. Date: 11/23/2016 2:03:00 PM

    Oh well, I just caught a glimpse of the pickled egg face. Not all days are meant to be thoroughly enjoyed, I suppose. Superb write, Keith! Love the resonance and truly are a master of poetical sensations. Best wishes... Mikki :)
  1. Date: 11/20/2016 4:33:00 AM

    Such a tangle of emotion, illusion and allusion you present me with Keith, hope all's well with you there.'
  1. Date: 10/21/2016 5:29:00 AM

    Excellent write, Keith, with a lot of meaning. I like the ending lines - "there is no easy way". T.J
  1. Date: 10/17/2016 12:09:00 AM

    Superb write, Keith- furtive, guilty, and a kicker of a last line. Love it. regards, Viv