We fought them on the beachestheir guns did surely reach us how we destroyed them in the airstopped them bombing without a care we chased their glory on the seathere was no mind to let it flee shells and fire, sank with all its menwatery grave, not seen again finally, victory is mine and yourstheContinue reading “We Fought Them on the Beaches”
Author Archives: Dave's Poetry & Mystery...
The Wind
The wind will blow and trees will bend and bowthe blades of grass will dance their gentle swaythe pond ripples like gentle rings of silkand ears of corn will move and bob all day. A gentle breeze is felt to cool the browwhen summer sun is blazing in its higha gale will tell you buttonContinue reading “The Wind”
The Tree
The tree stands tall reaching to the skya canopy of leaves and branches there so highits hollow trunk a testament to ageits mighty girth is weakened by this stage. The wind has moved its mighty head aboutmaking it sway and creak and groan and shoutit has a split along its trunk severethat opens wide andContinue reading “The Tree”
The Blue Lady Ghost
She is said to haunt the grounds of the Priory Church Worksop.
Shopping
Sitting in the parkdusk turning to darkradio on and songs aboundjust watching the world go round. A woman passes by, she’s soldher baggage is testament to be toldall the shops along the streethurting legs, aching feet. Bags galore around wrist and arm boxes on shoulders to strained alarm people hurry, it`s so cold young legsContinue reading “Shopping”
Moving On
My dad on his deathbed.
Happy
The world is beautiful, I can’t be sadmy life is full of joy and I am gladthe trees are full of fruit for me to eatapples and pears, so ripe they taste so sweet. So warm a site, watching the children playthe sun is shining on a lovely daythe branches bow along the avenuetheir welcomeContinue reading “Happy”
Winter’s Walk
The crisp and frosty leaves do laylike nature’s carpet all the waythey crunch and crunch under the boottill dense wood joins and churn to mud. Beech trees shed nuts on the groundand squirrels leave the shells aroundanother sound is played by trodden foota sharp crisp, crunchy one of empty nut. We reach the shrubs alongContinue reading “Winter’s Walk”
Dancing Flowers
A recurring childhood experience at the age of around 4 to 8 years old and again in my 50s.
By The Lake
I left the gravel park and hurried soto get a seat and starenumber plates lined neatly in a rowchildren run without a care. Nestled in among the treesacross the lake a chapel spirepointing up towards the skybut towering so much higher. A rabbit runs across the fernsstirred by a searching houndin panic it darts toContinue reading “By The Lake”
