Ready and Waiting.
I call your name: echo replies.
I listen ‘til the echo dies.
The last sound fades and silence reigns.
I hesitate to call again.
I know your spirits flying free
Towards the light triumphantly.
Which I accept reluctantly.
The tears I weep. I weep for me.
I weep for my lost happiness.
I would give all I possess.
To be flying by your side.
That wish remains unsatisfied.
So I must wait impatiently.
For kindly death to set me free.
Tuesday,07 August 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Honestly
A good luck charm an amulet.
yes superstition lingers yet.
Despite vaunted modernity,
the human race is still not free
from their belief a lucky charm.
Will somehow keep them from all harm.
Although it defies common sense
it seems to boost their confidence.
I don’t subscribe to this belief.
I check and find to my relief
the lucky charm she gave to me.
Exactly where it ought to be.
My only reason I declare
for wearing it. It pleases her
9-Feb-08.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Improbale dream for my fellow poets
A hundred years from now may be.
Someone will read my poetry
and wonder how I came to write
my simple thoughts in black and white.
Amused by my naiveté
my complete lack of sophistry
Perhaps in pity they will give,
me credit as a primitive.
Just as some critics do today.
Poke fun at the old fashioned way
in which past poets used to write.
Immortal verse which can delight
their readers of the present day.
Despite what critics have to say.
15-Dec-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Party time for M 'lady Lucianne
The first signs of impending spring
are crocus flowers rioting
Along the verges daffodils
contemptuous of night time chills
Continue steadily to grow
in preparation for the show
The flower show that‘s held each year
As one by one new blooms appear.
Each has its short time in the sun
to set their seed and then begone.
A yearly exhibition
provided free for everyone
Now spring is here let’s celebrate.
9-Mar-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Those were the Days
The horse drawn hearse impresses me
Drawn by a pair of well matched blacks.
Moves slowly onward sedately.
With an attendant at the back.
The coachman in dark livery.
A black crepe bow adorns his hat
Controls his horses easily
There can be little doubt of that.
It is a sight we rarely see.
In the busy world of today.
A horse drawn hearse traditionally.
Was seen to be the only way.
To embark on your last journey
To the local cemetery.
Tuesday,17 April 2012.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Familiarity breeds contempt.
The psychedelic neon signs.
A visual insanity.
Create intricate designs
that linger momentarily.
They are designed to catch the eye
which they did successfully.
Illuminating passers by
in garish colours constantly.
We can ignore them easily.
They have become familiar.
part of our past history.
We have become particular.
Their garish colours are a bore
they don’t intrigue us any more.
Friday,18 February 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Somebody's son.
A bloated corpse floats on the flood
But who he was nobody knows.
He was intent that no one should
Removed the labels from his clothes.
Made sure he carried no I.D
He had his reasons I suppose
to choose anonymity.
I must admit it baffles me.
He’s just another suicide
another tragic incident.
He’ll never be identified.
Unless perhaps by accident
He died voluntarily
and left behind a mystery.
Monday,29 March 2010
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Breaking Point
The moon hangs low above the trees
And bathes with silver radiance.
A soldier praying on his knees
for some divine deliverance.
From his prevailing circumstance.
Where he is forced to kill or die
He is prepared to take a chance
to find a place of sanctuary
A haven of tranquillity
Untouched by wars insanity.
A place where everyone is free
To do what conscience tells them to
The moon listens impassively
Although she does not disagree.
Saturday,05 May 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Where there's a will there is a way for Lucianne
The skunk was not aware he stunk
His only wish was to make friends
forgive forget and make amends
His family motto so he thunk.
But he got frightened easily
and when he did emitted smells
offending others dreadfully.
His life was full of fare thee wells.
He drove potential friends away
He was destined to be alone
Then he discovered body spray.
He’s popular with everyone
Now body spray has saved the day
He’s welcome to join in our play.
20-Oct-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Ladies Choice for M'lady Tara
A lady always knows that she’s
Superior to any man
although she may not seem to be.
A lady’s well aware she can.
Without the use of undue force
put any upstart in his place.
Her better breeding wins of course
she squelches him with supreme grace.
Shi is not rude nor is she crude.
he merely treats him with disdain.
Until the fools forced to conclude
he lacks the nerve to try again.
A lady will decide when she
is ready to be more friendly
26-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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