love poem by pd lyons inspired by the meeting on the turret stairs

Pdlyons's Explorations

National gallery of Ireland – Hellelil and Hildebrand, the Meeting on the Turret Stairs by Frederic William Burton

I know now

These cold stones

Lead up and down

to nowhere

I know now

These shadows

Indeed empty

Conceal not

your warm embrace

I know now

How little all else matters

Such as duty bound

or destiny

I know now

A love enduring

Having lost all

Is left with needing not.

When last my love we met here

Your strong arms to hold me

Barley room to turn my tears away

The kiss you stole

The kiss I gave

Only empty shadows now

Will meet me here upon the turret stairs

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With ceaseless motion, comes and goes the tide.

Today, well maybe not just today

My head is filled with a reservoir of unanswered questions

Visiting my poetry diary for inspirational thoughts

Yields, yes you guessed right – nothing

Keep an ear to the ground

Walk a while in nature’s garden

Flick open the dictionary for a word to inspire

The making of a good poem might come to mind

As I climb this winding stair

The happiness of getting it down

Making a fine statement

Will bring peace and calm

Poetry of the countryside might well be a good starting point

A poem chock full of vibrancy

Sounds/reads like such an easy task

Still my head is filled with a reservoir of unanswered questions.

© Chris Black. May 2018.

The arrival of morn.

 

Come it will without any fanfare

Shining a light on the dregs of the night before

Discarded bags of rubbish left in ditches

By those with no thought of neighbour nor environment

Those road kills which might have been avoided with proper care.

 

The arrival of morn

Brings air pollution, noise pollution

The rush and fuss of school goers

Vexed commuters with no time for those with time to spare

Cyclists inhaling vapour shots

Deep disturbing gloomy news bulletins on nearly every channel

Destroying the soul of our humanity

Weather forecasters threatening rain and storm.

 

The arrival of morn

Brings wild light to bleary eyes

Rain striking windows like little nails

Echoes of thunder followed by lightning flashes

Electric moments.

Dark sky bruised from the pummelling by prevailing winds.

Following that the subtle change, welcome in sunshine

Look out on that garden of cherry blossoms

Sweet music from swallows welcoming sun bursts.

 

The arrival of morn

The many shades of summer green

Calm the mind, curl up with your favourite book

Relax to the hum of bees and scent of flowers

An exquisite bouquet. The arrival of morn.

 © Chris Black. May 2018

Broken

Walt's Writings

There are times
When we all feel broken
Times when we’ve lost a job
Lost a loved one
Struggle to make ends meet
When the constant pain drags us down

How we handle those times
Is a reflection of our character
Do we roll into a fetal position
And give up?
Or do we rise, stand tall and say
I will not give up!”

Life can be hard
But we were given this life to live
So we better do the best we can
With what we have

The world may be broken
But our lives will go on
The clothes that we wear
May be tattered and torn
But love will go on

All that matters is that we stay strong
We can and we will
Get through this together

If our spirit
Our caring
Our compassion
Our love for each other
Is broken
Then all will be…

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