I was looking through some poetry today, searching for inspiration….

I enjoyed revisiting some favourites…

Here’s a couple I’ve written in the inside cover of my writing book, to remind me of what I’m doing there!


What is Poetry? Who Knows?

Not the rose, but the scent of the rose;

Not the sky, but the light in the sky;

Not the fly, but the gleam of the fly;

Not the sea, but the sound of the sea;

Not myself, but what makes me

See, hear and feel something that prose

Cannot: and what it is, who knows!

Eleanor Farjeon – Poems for Children


He ate and drank the precious words,

His spirit grew robust,

He knew no more that he was poor,

Or that his frame was dust.

He danced along the dingy ways

And this bequest of wings

Was but a book. What liberty

A loosened spirit brings!

Emily Dickinson – The Poems of Emily Dickinson


Here’s a couple from Steve Turner, a writer I hadn’t heard of before a friend gave me a book of his to read. I loved pretty much all of them….

City Sunset (ii)

Tall buildings


like chessmen

in cloudy fingers.

Sneaky old sun


a last move.


In The End

In the end.

In the very end of the last moment,

when the filter tip of the world

is completely shadowed by a descending

heel, we’ll call in the experts

for their considered opinion.

We’ll arrange for an apocalyptic

edition of Time Magazine,

complete with artists’ impressions.

We’ll comfort ourselves with the fact

that it has never happened before.

In the end, we’ll be deciding

whether to decide.

In the very end of the last moment,

we’ll falter,




In My World

In my world

I would write

of golden suns

if it weren’t

for the obscuring clouds.

I would write

of the wind-bent grass

but all the fields are tarmacked

& multistorey.

Instead I’ll be

an urban Wordsworth

writing of

reinforced concrete landscapes

& clear brown skies


to wander lonely as a cloud

is just not advisable

after dark.


… and my favourite…. 😀

White With Two Sugars (please)

Coffee gives you

a legal shot of

energy when your

eyelids are feeling


Coffee kills time

when you’re washed

ashore on the streets

of London.

(Coffee can even

help rainstorms


Coffee is something

to dangle your lips

in when conversation

is scarce.

Coffee is a good

place to take a

new friend.

(Coffee is an excuse

to stay half an hour


Aquaintanceships end

on the doorstep but

friendships begin

with coffee.

Coffee can be

appreciated by all


Coffee is a multilingual,

multi-racial, liquid esperanto.


There’s something quite

religious about coffee.



Published in: on March 29, 2011 at 7:19 pm  Leave a Comment  

The URI to TrackBack this entry is: https://1000fieldsofroses.wordpress.com/2011/03/29/words/trackback/

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: