I must go down to the sea again
The lonely sea and the sky
I left my shoes and socks there
I wonder if they're dry.

Cheers! I'll drink to that.

I think Hieronymous had better join us by the fire - his feet must be frozen.

What Is Love?

'What is love?' There are so many answers,
I've noticed what love means to some
May not mean much to others,
Most still search, longing to become
A partnership of lovers.

What is love? At times I sit and ponder,
Although relationships can feel
Divine once they have started,
Their goodness love can also steal
To leave you broken-hearted.

Where is love? Our world tends to erase it,
News told about school corridors,
Of random bullets scattered,
Of wounded love and classroom floors
Where innocence lay shattered.

Who is love? Disciples sensed that he was,
They heard his voice and knew his eyes
Were wells of deep emotion,
Their love survived his cruel demise
And lived on in devotion.

What is love? The subject's an enigma,
As sunlight shows the darkest glades
It's rare but many-splendoured,
I hope you recognise the shades
Of love that I have rendered.


©

Although this poem has a comedy tone, I love the phrase 'lonely sea and sky' - I wish I'd thought of it.

Ah yes! "Love is the sweetest thing" - somebody once sang.


John Masefield thought of it first, "Sea Fever". I remember it from school.

Thanks for that Biz

The Turkey's stuffed
Some tatties fluffed
The gravies lumpy
Granny's grumpy
Telly's boring
Grandad's snoring
The presents useless
Tangerines juiceless
I love Santa
He's brung me a planter !




Merry Christmas to everyone ! Have a happy and healthy New Year x

Brilliant BB, you've summed up the big day perfectly

Merry Xmas to you too and everyone who visits or reads the thread

Santa's Hat

On Christmas Eve a big surprise
Shook Santa who recoiled,
It took a moment to surmise
His famous hat was soiled.

The bobble and the red and white
Lay stained beside his sack,
Manure had been left in the night,
A treacherous attack.

He found it after drinking tea,
From his own festive herd
Some reindeer quite unthinkingly
Deposited a turd.

He washed the hat at half past nine
Then squeezed it through the mangle,
He hung it on the washing line
And watched it sadly dangle.

The inquest was a grim affair,
He questioned every beast,
As accusations filled the air
The sense of dread increased.

Despite the way their leader pressed
No animal would grass
Another up and none confessed
Who aimed the guilty arse.

Their silence forced the case to close
And now it's certain that
We'll never know which reindeer chose
To crap in Santa's hat.


©

That'll teach Santa to hang his hat up properly when he takes it off. I hope you posted an American version on the other site.

A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all poets regular and occasional, and to all the others who come here to read an enjoy as I do.

Hope your tangerines are juicy BB, and just give Granny a large brandy - that'll cheer her up.

They got the same version Merry Xmas Biz

The Gentle Mind

There lived a man, the gentle kind
Who only spoke the truth
With friends who shared his views and dined
Beneath a humble roof.

And when he came to heal or preach
The masses would increase,
They held out open hands to reach
His own which brought them peace.

Arrested, he was led away
By those who wrongly thought
The king of man required a day
Of judgement in their court.

They whipped him yet he shed no tears,
A flimsy case was built
Until a jury of his peers
Confirmed the prophet’s guilt.

Derided in a robe of red,
Cut by a crown of thorns,
The Via Dolorosa bled
Upon that dawn of dawns.

Down from a hill he looked about,
Guards cared not for his loss,
With hearts of stone and little doubt
They nailed him to a cross.

Yet even hardened soldiers froze
When darkness filled the sky;
As death occurred his spirit rose
To paradise on high.

Was he the Lord, that Christian star
Who died to break our chains?
Nobody knows yet from afar
His gentle mind remains.


©
 

The only problem is that the message tells us that gentle minds get their rewards in Heaven, and there are those who don't want to wait until they're dead.

Merry Christmas Musty - hope Santa filled your pillowcase.

Same to you Biz - I got a bit squiffy last night I think Santa was too busy to visit, he was looking for a new hat in the sales

Barn Owl

White against the black sky,
Over fields at night
Long the barn owl journeys
On its solo flight.

Where a fastened ghostly
Wall of grey mist clings
Nothing moves apart from
These nocturnal wings.

Sharp eyes penetrating,
Forceful talons splay,
Hunting the horizons
Silently for prey.

After that instinctive
Deadly rise and fall
Barn owl, swift and graceful
Glides above it all.


©

I'm off to London for a few days where more work on Volume 2 will take place. Once again, I'll be computer-less so I won't be on here for a while. I'll probably be back on Sunday - in the meantime I hope the thread gets the odd post. See you soon my friends

I'm not a poet
And don't I know it
But some of you are
You could be a star
So why not pop by
No need to be shy.

Not a line
Not a verse
But not yet time
For poetry's hearse.

What's to do
We're on page two?
It's very slick
To move so quick
But could be worse
If I write a verse.

Dearie me
We're on page three
I think I'll have a cuppa tea.

Why the rush, to write a line
all will follow, that be fine
put your feet up, enjoy the telly
have some cheese, from the deli.

Sandy's given good advice
Isn't that really nice
Hope your Christmas was lots of fun
Have a chocolate......but not the toffee one.

Outside the wind races down deserted streets
Through tunnels and alleys
It roars as it sweeps
Fallen leaves back into flight
A fire like vortex in amber light

Ah Howmanytimes, thank you for popping in to save the day. Sandy and I did our best, and I tried to reply to you in my desperate doggerel, but I'm just doggerelled out.