Poems and Poetry

A Selection of Small Poems by Rebecca Cowgill

night’s end
silhouettes of stars
lay in the sun’s shadow


pieces of driftwood
answering your questions
blown out candles


spring horizon
settling down
the long distance snow


moonlit dusk
the drift of the old oak
in the empty wallet


pieces of driftwood
ebb on the shore
winter sunset


scents from a bubble bath
on the low laying sun
a shadow of stars


spring horizon
a line of cocktails
washing away memories


forgotten memories
meander in the stars
above lay lowing clouds


winter horizon
echoes of your dreams
on distant constellations


scent of vanilla
in the bubble bath soap
spring sunrise

Playing Well | A Poem by JD DeHart

I do not play well with others,
refusing to share my precious toys,
the sizzle of bacon – mine,
the taste of tangerine wine – mine,
Now how smooth is that, I say,
wrapping my hands around her,
placing the apron gently over
her head as she chops onions;
these moments, these days, this
heat soaring kitchen, I do not share,
the old left in the store, clutching
the blister package of a new gizmo.

Surfacing | A Poem by Marie MacSweeney

Atoms cool in the roundness of new night.
A searing hiss as suns settle into skies.
Planets sigh and sway into first sleep.
Trees bed down in those dark patches
of warm earth, shiver as waves
coax water upward over sand

and the electric swing of a storm
is left dangling overhead…

After birth tremors subside
is a lull
and we lie curled up
on raw soil,
our new hearts thumping wildly
when we are drawn up,
bone by howling bone,
left standing…

Charles | A Poem by JD DeHart

Lumbering figure,
a once-friend who could never
quite hold a job.
Not for long.
Now gone, no longer walking
down the street, looking
for a ride. No longer
making his jokes, pretending
to be young even though
his temples were graying.
We had not talked in years,
the last communication
vague thoughts of a gathering,
a few reminisces.
A reminder of the inevitable
loss of the list of remembered
names and places.

Like Falling Backwards down a Dark, Spiral Staircase | A Poem by Paul Tristram

Like falling backwards down a dark,
spiral staircase and bouncing painfully off
many stairs and banisters on my way
until finally awaking to the light
upon the thick dandelion-seeded
bottom with a gasp and a childlike chuckle.
That’s what it was like waking up with you
for the very first time… no longer lost!

Visit Paul at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.