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Poets Run WILD Entries

Three poems from Emma Plover. The purple poem reads from the right page to the left page

CLICK HERE to have a look at more of Emma's work

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Three little vignettes from lockdown 

 

12/1/21 or 12/1/21

On palindromic day fast echoes
steel to wheel but echoes more through
empty coaches and
empty windows bring reproaches
Each empty space a missing soul - which,
days gone by would all be full
For, now, none travel, back or forth or
east to west or south to north
And lonesome drivers guide
through lights to stations
where no foot alights...........

 

And on this day.......................................

Fear not the trappings of vain office
for those incumbent shall soon pass
Their glories, mostly, short of life
and all in thrall to them also, away
All given, taken, gifts all lost
to find some answer they know not
and so they order us to follow
In their posturing vanity their
strident voices go until no more
and only blow for blow will suffice
and we, we small, will lose
on their behalf and one will win and
one will lose, until the next time,
and the next, and the next.........
.........................and the next.................

 

Edinburgh's Duke

Trundle me down in my old Land Rover,
My time is up, this journeys over,
I've been around for quite some time,
Nine decades plus an extra nine,
To make one hundred would have been better,
(At least, from my wife, I'd have got a letter !)

 

I confirm these are my own original works.

Alan Morris, vanguard.ajm@gmail,com

 

 

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Alan J.Morris

Uphold me when I stand - forgive me when I fall.

Lui

The king of the rat’s tail did not know where his life would end.
He had high hopes, magical ideas and an overwhelming passion in his lion’s heart.

These were the things that lit up every girl's soul and their minds would dance with excitement and fear.
For they knew one day that the black blooded traveller would retreat and be forever more a voice that once whispered in their ear.

Fear not fair maidens, for to know the love and adoration of this sharp tongued lad would make them see,
that life itself was not for the faint hearted who did not want to let him be.

The moon and the stars shone upon his amber eyes for he deserved the earth and the power of the sun to free the pain
and suffering that he had once endured and what may be yet to come.

By Elena Thimonier

A poem from Jet, who illustrated her poem, then merged words and pictures together

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