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Everyone's poetry group

poetry shared by interested members

Members: 18
Latest Activity: Oct 7, 2012

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Can anyone be well versed in Poetry?

Started by Daffyd. Last reply by Daffyd May 15, 2012. 28 Replies

Poems to my mind are free flowing thoughts that are captured and reduced to writings that are in most instances put abroad for the delectation of like minded dreamers. It is my opinion that such…Continue

Ted Hughes' last poem to Sylvia Plath

Started by ree. Last reply by Linda L Oct 7, 2010. 6 Replies

Thought this was interesting: the New Statesman published Ted Hughes' last poem today, which addresses the death of his wife Sylvia Plath:(Excuse the gossipy headline — grabbed this from the…Continue

Tags: process, writing, poetry, plath, hughes

Any thoughts on this poem?

Started by Mary Anne Lonergan. Last reply by Mary Anne Lonergan Aug 28, 2010. 2 Replies

 WEDDING PARTY’S THOUGHTS  The bride, she fretsIs her dress, fitting and correct?The groom eyeing his bride,Six years too long, he fretsHer maid of honour daydreams“Welcome to housewife slavery,” she…Continue

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Comment by Linda L on October 7, 2012 at 10:17am

I'm so happy to finally see another post here and I am guilty too of not contributing..........Well done, Kimberly...........a pleasure to read and read again..........you have stirred my creative juices and let's hope that we hear from "the rest of our fold....who have stories to be told!"

Comment by Kimberly on October 6, 2012 at 7:09pm

When I close my eyes,

I feel you near,

but when I think

of home ....

I float away and

I remember..

A time in the mountains,

a younger me,

the lake sounds

at sunset,

the mountain weather,

the wolves around our house,

the people's faces that come to me

when I close my eyes..

The people that have stood by me,

and those that have not...

I know your heart my friends. 

My life was a simple one,

except for the country club,

and the senators..

the push to marry their sons,

while I married the enlistend man.

Can you imagine if I had

ever told those sleezy Senators

what I really thought? 

Nay, rather an honest,

even if jealous man,

love over floweth for me.

Comment by Linda L on November 30, 2011 at 3:23pm

I took this photo this past weekend near Sauble Beach.  Seeing the contrast of the two roses, it inspired me.......

Comment by Linda L on November 30, 2011 at 3:20pm

The November Rose

It’s easy to bloom in the summer,
The warm sun’s rays gently coax your petals to unfurl
And you bloom in an explosion of colour
And heady perfumes make our senses whirl
And then you are gone too quickly
Your withered blossoms hang with a faded curl

Ah, but the November Rose is something else
She waits until she knows her time is here
The cold strong winds will not keep her from bursting forth
To laugh at the clouds and gladden our hearts dear
She teaches us that an icy raindrop on our cheek
Is more like a kiss of summer dew, rather than a tear

 

Comment by Daffyd on October 31, 2011 at 3:54pm

 

On this night of Halloween, best stay in and not be seen. For spectres roam with
just one goal, to steal from you your immortal soul........


A Soul Lost


It was almost three in the morning,
A heavy mist was in the
air,
The pilgrim pulled his cloak around him
And made his way across the
square.
The hollow sound of his leather boots
Echoed dully on cobbled
stone,
A lonely sound there in the mist,
But that pilgrim was not alone!


His companion, cowled and wraith like
Walked in silence near his
side,
He claimed he owned the pilgrim’s soul
And would collect it when he
died.
So for now, the spectre followed
A mere half a step behind
The
pilgrim searched for sanctuary
Claiming the Devil’s contract remained
unsigned.

The pilgrim had been tempted,
And in part he was to
blame.
He had wished his creditors all to Hell
To be consumed in the
Devil’s flame!
The creditors ceased to plague him
And good fortune came
his way,
So too did a tall cowled wraith,
His companion from that day.


The pilgrim crossed the deserted square,
His aim, to break the
Devil’s hold
By seeking sanctuary in a church
Now that he was grey and
old.
He had enjoyed the Devil’s gifts
For many a year and day,
The
wraith then took a half step forward
And stole the pilgrim’s soul away.

Comment by Daffyd on October 20, 2011 at 6:51am

THE DUNNY...... A tale from the Outback....

 







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They were funny looking buildings,
that were once a way of life,
If you couldn't sprint the distance, then you
really were in strife.


They were nailed, they were wired,
but were mostly falling dow
n,
There was one in every yard, in every house, in
every town.


They were given many names, some were even
funny,
But to most of us, we knew them as the outhouse or the
dunny.


I've seen some of them all gussied up, with painted
doors and all,


But it really made no difference,
they were just a port of call.


Now my old man would take a bet,
he'd lay an even pound,


That you wouldn't make the dunny
with them turkeys hangin' round.


They had so many uses, these
buildings out the back,"


You could even hide from mother, so
you wouldn't get the strap.


That's why we had good cricketers,
never mind the bumps,


We used the pathway for the wicket
and the dunny door for stumps.


Now my old man would sit for hours,
the smell would rot your socks,


He read the daily back to front in
that good old thunderbox.


And if by chance that nature called
sometime through the night,


You always sent the dog in first,
for there was no flamin' light.


And the dunny seemed to be the
place where crawlies liked to hide,
But never ever showed themselves until
you sat inside.


There was no such thing as Sorbent,
no tissues there at all,


Just squares of well read
newspaper, a hangin' on the wall.


If you had some friendly
neighbours, as neighbours sometimes are,
You could sit and chat to them, if
you left the door ajar.


When suddenly you got the urge, and
down the track you fled,


Then of course the magpies were
there to peck you on your head.


Then the time there was a wet, the
rain it never stopped,


If you had an urgent call, you ran
between the drops.


The dunny man came once a week, to
these buildings out the back,


And he would leave an extra can, if
you left for him a zac.


For those of you who've no idea
what I mean by a zac,


Then you're too young to have ever
had, a dunny out the back.


 

Comment by Daffyd on October 17, 2011 at 2:44pm

 

Gabriel's Horn


It's a tale of the Supernatural
That's the tale I wish to tell
Where Ghouls most foul and Ghosties
Came marching right out of Hell.
Fiendish apparitions,
That did stun and shock the mind,
Did freeze the blood within the vein
These forebears of Mankind.


What was it that disturbed them?
Why should they come forth this way?
Bringing with them from THAT place
The debt they must repay.
Was it the Horn of Gabriel
That had summoned those long dead?
Was this the Day of Judgment
Which all Ghosts and Ghoulies dread?


Nay, 'tis but a legend that repeats itself
Each millenium, or there about,
When Ghost and Ghoulies hear the call
And all Hell is emptied out!
Beware of the Supernatural
And the tales that are often told,
For when the Horn of Gabriel sounds
It summons both young and old.

Comment by Daffyd on October 10, 2011 at 3:23pm

PEACE

Peace is the backdrop
upon which we imprint noise,
Peace is the commodity
we all seek
but few enjoys.
Peace is the serenity
that paints a sun
washed sky,
Peace for the youngest babe in arms
is in its mother's
eye.
Contentment, relaxation,
serenity and love
All attributes of the peace we seek
through the Son of God above.



Elusive and so
fragile,
yet always in demand
By each and every one of us
right
through-out the land.
Quietude for reflection
after a long and busy
day,
Some time to gather up our thoughts,
for some a chance to pray.
A
time to stop and listen
to rid our minds of doubt and dark despair,
Time
to spend with loved ones
and to show our friends that we do
care.



Peace is the unification
of the Spirit with the
mind,
The euphoria that exudes from this
is of the Eternal
kind.
Harmonious patterns of behaviour
will bring this peace about,
We
need to free ourselves from prejudice
of that there is no doubt.
We need
to make that voyage of discovery
deep within ourselves,
We need to clear the bias and the vengeance
from off our memory's shelves.



We
are wearying ourselves
in the multiplicity of our ways,
We are constantly
denying ourselves
by indulging in affrays.
When we can lift our
consciousness
through the Power and the mind
Who knows what peace,
serenity,
our troubled souls will find?
We can increase our own
capacity
to enjoy what this life has in store,
We can find, retain and
live in that peace
that we've been searching for.



Peace is not
something we have created
it was there before time began,
We are the ones
evolving
we must let God live within the man.
We must prepare that inner
temple
so that He may take up His abode,
We must pray that life's
temptations
do not our resolve, erode.
Let our inner sense of
righteousness
govern what we say and do
Then that peace that we've been
searching for
will embrace both me and you.



PEACE be with
you...

Comment by Linda L on October 9, 2011 at 12:25pm

Since my Dad went into a nursing home, I have made over 50 new friends of the staff and residents.  What an amazing group of people!  Sadly, 3, whom I had become very fond of, have recently passed away.  John, my 90 year old Scottish sailor who always had a twinkle in his eye when I would tell him that "I had a thing for sailors";  Victor, my British soldier, who at 89 flirted outrageously with me (have a thing for soldiers too!); and Cosmo, who had the most beautiful eyes and could not express himself with words, but, I saw such life in those eyes!  These lovely gentlemen had a lifetime of  loves and lives and I was just starting to learn about them and now they are gone.....what a privilege to have known them even for just a short time!  This poem, by my favourite poet, Rupert Brooke, is very appropriate, I think.

 

 

These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,
Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,
And sunset, and the colours of the earth.
These had seen movement, and heard music; known
Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended;
Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone;
Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.

There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter
And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after,
Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance
And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white
Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance,
A width, a shining peace, under the night.

 

Rupert Brooke 1914

Comment by Linda L on October 8, 2011 at 3:51pm
Thoughts On A New Love.......

Where were you forty years ago
When I was ready to settle down
Starting another phase in my life
Replacing my mini skirt with a wedding gown

Were you just settling in too?
Babies and work taking all of your time
All the while knowing that ‘something’ was missing
That everyday life had no reason or rhyme

Did you long for something more?
Did your arms ache to hold a lover true?
Did you blindly go through the motions?
Just because it was the right thing to do?

And now, can our two souls finally find
Their perfect reflection of one another?
Learning from past loves and lives
To become a true friend, soul mate, and lover
 

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