Climatical Decay
There’s a slight nip felt in the air,
And a feeling that one’s aware
Of a change now, in the seasons,
For there’s certainly many reasons.
There’s a diffusion of leaves around,
Twigs too, tumbling to the ground,
As the winds swirl, dance and tease,
Among the branches of the trees.
There’s a sharpness lingering about,
And now no one can be in doubt,
That Mr Frost is on his way,
With his sparkling white display.
There’s a sense of climatical decay,
Seen on boughs that one can survey,
Autumn’s entering upon our scene,
Giving contrast to all that's green.
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Her Date
She waved down a passing cab,
And said, Hi Frank can I grab
A quick lift home, cos I'm a little late tonight,
Oh sure, he said, and smiled,
As if she were a child,
I'll set you down outside your door, if that's alright!
That would indeed be great,
She answered, I've got a date,
And I'll have to change and also snatch a bite,
I hope he will wait for me,
I told him that I'd hurry,
Musn't keep him standing long, on our first night.
Where are you going to meet,
I probably know the street,
I won't let you down, if time is getting tight,
No, don't you worry Frank,
But you, I would like to thank,
And if he doesn't show up, I'll ring you, if I might.
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Broken Heart
Between the trees, he stood, that lonely man.
Looking out with eyes that did not quite see.
In his sad mind there really was no plan,
He knew not what would be his destiny.
He’d spent so many hours just standing there,
Days fine and sunny, cold or thick with snow.
And seemingly his brain was unaware
That he was pacing slowly to and fro.
The days when he had worked, had loved, had smiled,
When things were good and life held happiness,
Were gone, and now no job, no wife, no child.
Alone he faced the world in deep distress.
He must somehow take hold and try to mend,
The broken heart that shattered with the grief.
To forward go, to turn the final bend,
And leave the past behind and find relief.
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Delphiniums Of Blue
Come follow me down the garden path,
Past the flowerbeds, planted neat.
Around the sweetbriar's scented hedge,
To the old carved wooden seat.
A tranquil arbour, where within its shade,
Lies a sheltered quiet place.
We'll hear music from the singing birds,
And let our eyes embrace.
There's clematis along the grey stone wall,
There's a maple's vivid hue.
Pots of red and pink geraniums,
And delphiniums of blue.
The pond's azure sky, mirror image,
Under which the goldfishes play.
Elegant water lilies with their floating leaves,
Recall a painting by Monsieur Monet.
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Earthbound Soul
This spirit roams the vacant corridors,
searching for something that’s uppermost,
in his mind.
Disturbing the air, causing a chilly
atmosphere, strange, eerie, a ghost
of humankind.
Continuously on his quest, he has
haunted these aisles for centuries,
decades and years.
He cannot leave this sphere until he has
solved all his trials and laid to rest
his wretched fears.
Earthbound soul, no respite ever, nowhere
to go until released from torment
and despair.
How long will he have to wander hour
after hour, with discontent, in an
endless nightmare.
This spirit roams the vacant corridors,
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
This Mariner Race
The moon that lights a path across the sea,
Shines down on those who face the ocean's waves.
Where terror of the deep can so decree,
That many ships will sink down to their graves.
This lighted way illuminates each course,
The routes these stalwart sailors need to steer,
As against the powerfulness of a savage force,
They strive unceasingly to persevere.
They struggle, these elements, to bring to heel,
Muscles oppose these lashings of assault,
The Captain holding tight, controls the wheel,
As thunder crashes, along with lightning's bolt.
Toughened by their need to just survive,
Each seaman labours, longing for respite,
Passion giving strength, to stay alive,
Trying to disregard raw winds that bite.
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A Story Made
The table with its sunshade wide,
listened to the chattering.
Old and young sat side by side
around it, gaily nattering.
The birds perched nearby in the trees,
listened to the chattering
rising up on a light breeze.
Indeed the sounds were shattering.
The sun that shone down from the sky,
listened to the chattering.
Knew that once the rain came by,
there would be gentle pattering.
The young and old who felt the drops,
ceased to do the chattering.
Went indoors under rooftops,
resuming their loud yattering.
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
In An Empty Box
This poem was written by my Great Niece Kitty Cotton aged 12 years.
If there is nothing in an empty box,
what do you do?
You use an amazing thing called
imagination.
In a corner of the empty box was,
A long lasting friendship.
A pattern with no end.
A light that will never go out.
In a corner of the empty box was,
A devil, red as blood.
An ongoing argument.
A heart with no love.
In a corner of the empty box was,
A charming prince waiting for his love.
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
In An Empty Box
This poem was written by my Great Niece Kitty Cotton aged 12 years.
If there is nothing in an empty box,
what do you do?
You use an amazing thing called
imagination.
In a corner of the empty box was,
A long lasting friendship.
A pattern with no end.
A light that will never go out.
In a corner of the empty box was,
A devil, red as blood.
An ongoing argument.
A heart with no love.
In a corner of the empty box was,
A charming prince waiting for his love.
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Coming Home
The railings were old and rusty,
The door paint was faded and chipped,
The poor old house had seen better days,
The roof, made of slate, had now dipped.
The windows showed broken hinges,
The path to the door, overgrown,
This was the place where I was born,
The only real home I had known.
The 'rambler' that clung to the front porch,
Was a rose in the deepest red,
Now looking forlorn and so straggly,
I thought that maybe it was dead.
But tiny buds were shooting,
From the root beside the door,
And I was sure that, with a little care,
The house would come alive once more.
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!