Category: Poetry

Pride’s Compass

She doesn’t know
The pain we feel when we see
The sadness in her eyes
That ought to shine so bright.

She doesn’t see
The tears we hold back,
The worry that racks our minds
Whether she is near or far.

She doesn’t understand
Why we should be concerned
About her welfare,
About her happiness.

She only feels
The anger deep within
That stems from knowing
She should have listened.

She only knows
That now there’s no way out,
Unless she finds the strength
To accept the help we offer.

And maybe, then, she’ll know
That all we said and all we did,
We did with best intentions,
For her protection and benefit.

She won’t accept
That we could know
The consequences
Of a life thrown away.

So now she cries
An endless stream
Of tears that will not wash
The sorrow from her heart.

She only knows
That there’s no going back.
Her path is set
By pride’s compass.

Walk With Me

Pen y Fan

Take my hand.
Walk with me along life’s path,
Through fields of grazing sheep,
Toward the summit’s splendour.

Loaded down with picnic hamper;
Basket full of snacks and treats
That we can share along life’s way;
Our onward, upward hike.

Rest for lunch upon the peak;
Gaze out from the summit,
As far as eyes can see,
And look toward our future.

Wait until the crowds have gone;
The tourist walkers leave;
Then you and I shall rest, alone,
In private solitude.

Our peaceful idyll,
Under bright blue skies
With dappled shade from clouds on high,
Calms our troubled hearts.

You and I, finding peace,
Sitting, resting, talking, thinking,
Of philosophy and poetry,
Of life, and what we’ve made it.

Descend as evening starts to fall,
With shadows growing longer.
Walk with me, along life’s path,
And conquer hills together.

The Box

Couple Walking on Porthcawl Beach

Memories and feelings
All wrapped up in cotton wool
And bubble wrap;
Gently placed inside the box
With polystyrene pieces
And packs of desiccant;
Sealed and marked,
“Do not destroy,”
And archived.

For now, I have no need
Of memories or feelings;
Now that you’ve gone
And left me all alone
To face the bleakness of a future
Filled with sadness,
Filled with tears,
Filled with grief,
And uncertainty

Maybe, some day,
Our great grandchildren
Will look inside
To marvel at the love we shared.
“How quaint that they should be
Together, Oh so long!”
And give us pride of place
Upon their shelves
And mantels.

Or maybe you and I
Will reunite
To open up the box
And let the memories rekindle
The love that bound us
Together, forever;
To set the feelings free
To flood our hearts
And souls.

‘These three remain:
Faith, hope, and love;’
Anchors for this lonely soul
To which I cling with calloused hands
That long to feel
The softness of your cheeks.
Faith, hope, and love
That soon we’ll reunite
In Paradise.