Poem About The Truth

When I was a youth

I knew the Truth.

I was right;

You were wrong.

No wonder we didn’t get along.

Now, in the age of grey and buff

I cannot see the Truth

Nearly, clearly enough.

Perhaps,

All along,

You were right

And I was wrong.

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In Short Supply, Day and Knight

One should always buff one’s armour,

If one seeks to be a Charmer,

For Maidens in distress are two a penny;

And when these lovely ladies

Desire rescue from maladies

They look around for knights but can’t find any!

 

The brave knight must thus be ready

When the ladies get all heady

And threaten to exit stage left with a swoon.

With your arms wide, just be dashing

To the catch the maiden who is crashing;

For her gratitude will embrace you oh so soon!

 

Occupy the Octopi – a poem

I love to sit and occupy

My many friends, the Octopi.

Sudoku is their favourite game

Though they love Charades about the same;

Of course with tentacles 1 to 8

The game can go on very late;

A book, a film, a show, a song

The Octopi rejoice to play along;

But never seek to play “I Spy”

With cunning, clever, Octopi.

They’ll catch you out with obscure clues

And shout out, “Suckers!” when you lose.

Of course, the last laugh shall be mine

For “Octopuses” is the plural

I think you’ll find!

 

In My Mind

In My Mind

Below…

..

.

There is a cave

Beneath

The Lighthouse

In which I live.

I go there

To recharge

The energy expended

When I give.

 

My cave is warm

My cave is safe

More a sanctuary

Than a tomb;

Cosy, reassuring

It’s like re-entering

The womb.

 

I emerge from there

As born again,

I emerge from there

A butterfly;

So when I seem

So cold

And distant

Now you know the “Why”.

 

Above…

..

.

The Lighthouse loves

To share its light

With strangers far and wide

But few realise

The darkness

That often dwells inside.

 

The Lighthouse loves

To share its twinkling beam

With friends and family too

But rarely do they see the heart

That pounds with passion –

Fierce and true.

It beats me

Black and blue.

 

Passions bright

Passions dark

Passions rage

And rend my heart.

 

But You

You have mended my heart.

 

So

The Lighthouse sits

Upon this Rock

Remote. Detached. Alone.

The strangest choice

In which to live

But it’s the place

I call

My home.

.

..

In My Mind

Below

Above

I have encountered love.