Sometimes I wonder what it would be like
Sometimes I wonder who I could become
Sometimes I wonder if it could be done
Sometimes I wonder what I could achieve
If I were a Tyrannosaurus rex
Inspired by children everywhere.
Tag: iambic pentameter
Into the eyes of stars
Into the eyes of stars I look this night
And with a kiss, in me awakes a fire
As we do smile and dance here in the sky
I could, I must, I will voice my desire
My wife bought me a “poetry set” of fridge words, and I came up with this, as you can see in the picture. A very happy weekend to all.
Words of many shapes and kinds
When I connect the paper with my pen
I often find my hands have their own minds
And quicker than my tongue, my hands are then,
In painting words of many shapes and kinds
See them out
Shadows whisper secrets false
Clawing at my soul, they laugh
Gnawing at my heart, they sneer
Circling round my head, they lie.
That I may hear the truth and see them out.
Sonnet 12 – My soul’s youth
I’ve often had a tickle in my mind
A mem’ry that I cannot ever place
And day to day I never can quite find
The way to get to it through time and space
It is a memory both mine and not
One lived by someone else, who is yet me
Someone behind the veil of time, whose lot
Is ever close and yet so hard to see
I know it in the instincts of my heart
I know it in recesses of my soul
I know it full though know not ev’ry part
Not details, but one true and solemn whole
It is behind that veil that I sense truth
Some wisdom learnéd back in my soul’s youth
To be profound
My thoughts are dancing, running, spinning round
Around the spaces in my head they bound
As oft they circle wildly, I have found
When I do try too hard to be profound
A silent tax
Lofty adventures often stumble o’er
The darker side of heroes’ violent acts
They use the blood and gore so’s not to bore
The list’ners, but this is a silent tax
Silent orchestras
Sweet sounds of music spinning in my mind
Play symphonies no matter what the hour
In silent orchestras daily I find
A tranquil, simple, everlasting pow’r
Untroubled
As I espy outside the falling snow
A fire within me wakes to go and play
To lay upon the drift by my window
To be untroubled on a troubled day
Iambic pentameter
‘Iambic pentameter is a bore’
Say those without a single shred of wit
Though I’ll admit, perhaps it’s a bit more
Effort than what appears the worth of it
A Poem A Day 