As I walk along the sunken path
bordered both by fence and trees
my mind to calmer days is cast
when on most days there would be seen
men on horseback but more on foot
herding ponies, poultry, pigs or sheep
for this was once the road they took
down the valleys, over mountains steep
with dog and shout they drive them on
until at last their journey’s done.
Filed under Rural life, Self compositions
You must forgive my misty eyes,
memories often make me weep
and even though I try to sweep
them off, they make me realise
I should forget them, as if lies,
but this I find so hard to do
replacing them with something new,
a task for which I may need help,
leave gloomy thoughts upon the shelf
but then see the futility
for they keep flooding back to me
from deep within my inner self.
Filed under Self compositions, Stirring the memories
Two black pens are lined up neatly
as if they haven’t got the time
to start their day and fill the lines
with words that used to flow sweetly
inspiration lost completely
under the desk an empty seat
outside light rain has cleared the street
by now it is too late it seems
to cast aside this dismal scene
and see words appear on blank sheets
Filed under Self compositions
Home comes the sailor, home from the sea,
he stands on the foc’sle and what does he see
a crowd of happy faces standing on the quay
he thinks my wife’s among them waiting there for me
but he’s not too surprised for this is not to be
she’s run away with Jim who lived at number three.
Filed under Comic verse, Factual, Humorous, On the lines of romance, Self compositions
Cluster of comments
in red ink on white paper
sense of foreboding
Filed under Haiku, Self compositions
I’d like to tell you a little tale
about a girl called Rita Hayward,
with her independent outlook
her parents thought her wayward,
but like many women in those days
she liked to think herself liberated,
certainly her breasts turned out to be as
when while on a date she co-operated
with the removal of her underclothes
giving me a quite expectant thrill,
imagine how my pulses quickened
when she said, “It’s okay I’m on the pill
Discoveries found quite episodic
gave to us a list that rang melodic
so even those who would feel it all too much
of a strain could successfully remain in touch
and not appear to their peers quite so dense
as they recited the names of the elements.
Filed under Factual, Self compositions, Uncategorized
A slip on the ice
time will stand still as they fall
hope no one’s watching
Filed under Uncategorized
My writing, my books, my poetry and a bit of running.
Brett Kristian
Writing, reading, reflecting.
Independent Publisher of Poetry and Prose
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