Leaving a void.

There was fear in those eyes

sorrow in those eyes

What was he trying to tell me?


He lay there trembling

still his tail wagged

For whose comfort did I stroke his head?

There remained fear in those eyes.


Faithful friend I whispered in his ear

It is time to release you from your pain

His snout wrinkled as I shed another tear

The vet asked if I wanted to remain…

(c) Chris Black. July 2018


Blue Spanish Skies.

Young yachts bobbing, knocking quietly on the promenade wall

Oblivious of the longing glances in their direction from holidaying hoardes

The cross of Saint Joan loom large on street corners

Tee-shirts with the emblem on sale in all flea markets.

How many thoughts can you cram into a day?

When might the reader become the book?

Distraction for him can be as simple as a dog looking for attention

Which is not really a distraction

Just a lead down another path.

A holiday Thursday

He arose early showered and breakfasted

Limbered up, to the extent the arthritis would allow

thoughts of labour buried at the bottom of a suitcase

Crossed himself said a silent prayer

Walked out into early morning sunlight and bird song

Turning the key in the door shut silence inside

Speaking to himself in monotone he stepped out counting only cobbles

Happy in his holiday world.

Busily observing the austere faces of those making their way to various work stations

getting inside someone else’s vision

The reader soon will become the book.

(c) Chris Black. June 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

A Haven of Rest.

Because I could not stop to say farewell

A veil was cast over me.

It was time to move on

To a place devoid of choppy waters

No storms, no climate change

The entry gate says Immortality.

Yesterday I thought it centuries away

Not allowed time to stop for understanding

I’ll leave this short message for one and all to digest

Having loved being loved

As each leaf falls, that is me returning love endlessly.

(c) Chris Black. July 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

As morning was shining.

Above him a sky filled with words

Today he could paint line upon line of poetry

His brush, a single vein poured forth these words

Nature in its nakedness so became his inspiration

The eruption of birdsong melodious to the ear

Scorched earth also where hungry cattle grazed

High in a cloudless sky air craft left behind them silver trails

In silence he watched butterflies flutter by

On a beach close by blazing sunshine burning and bronzing naked flesh

He stopped and mopped his brow.

The dog sipped from his water bowl, continuously seeking sheltered spots to rest

Spiders busily knitting webs to capture the unfortunate fly

Busy bees buzzing from flower to flower

Sea gulls rising so high disappear out of sight

Crows alighting on electrical wires cawing – on line conversation perhaps?

In his off road haven devoid of vehicular traffic, peace abounds

Far off in the distance donkeys braying, cocks crowing

It’s Wednesday 10:00am July 4th 2018

The face of the clock tells him – We have all the time in the world

He sets aside his single vein, closes his book

Sips from a long cool glass.

(c) Chris Black. July 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~


And the beat goes on.

Spending a night in nearly sleep

Haunted by the sound of a faulty air conditioner

He thought, anywhere but here

He was calmed by her sleeping presence

The words of the song alive and revolving in his head

Let it be, Let it be, Let it be, OH Let it be, Whisper words of wisdom let it be”

(c) Chris Black. July 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~


While a dog barks at the moon.

Lulled by faint breezes of a summer eve

We strolled hand in hand along a glassy beach

Waves lapping the shore line

Sun setting


This evening born for lovers

We glory in its being

You, I and the rising moon

I wish I could buy you tomorrow


As the stage curtain falls on another day

Wending our way homewards steal a kiss

Sleeping on a feather bed

Sigh, nothing happens, no one cares.


When we awake, morning shining

Bird song fills the air

An angel arising to comfort the world

All now well and God is in his heaven.

(c) Chris Black. June 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~

Hear a spoken word version @ https://soundcloud.com/the-poets-poet-1/while-a-dog-barks-at-the-moon





Following years of waiting.

Many years ago she said

What turned out to be goodbye;

Now alone I sleep in my double bed

And cry


So I, as I grow grey and old

Must find someone else to woo

Rolling over, the right side feels so cold

Someone who will be true


It came to pass on a bright summer day

In a coffee shop we both frequented

To her friend I over heard her say

That man there, with him I am tormented

I cast a smile across the room

Our friendship was cemented.

(c) Chris Black. June 2018

~The Poet’s Poet~