Month: December 2019

The Unthought Thoughts

give me Cohen, give me Brel
forsaken heaven into hell
words that damn us to our dreams
poems of what might have been

turn the pages to the deathly
endpapers devoid of breath
wherein are writ no words of rhyme
just empty space to mark the time

these were two separate thoughts, written days apart, four line verses which sat in my drafts awaiting a possible place in probable poems, after revisiting them today I thought I’d pair them up and see if they hit it off.


she is the golden starlight
that breaks the earth
as narcissi in the early spring
the bleeding hearts
of whitsun roses
peonies red in summer’s dawn
she is the moist verdant caress
the clinging moss bright
on autumn beech bark
and the afternoon sunlight
silver shafts of beauty blinding
on frozen lakes
as the year gives way
to new tomorrows.

she is the palette
from which is painted
my passions.