A Summer's Rain

I am not afraid to say
That I love a summer's rain
To listen to the pitter-patter of rain drops
Splash lightly upon the window panes

I love to gaze out at the falling rain
To see the plants and flowers sparkle in the misty haze
That covers the water coloured scene before me
Each dropp of water shimmering where it lay

I love to see the sun during a summer's rain
Its glistening beams spreading out far and wide
Creating a prism of wonderful colours
To form a beautiful rainbow across the sky

I love the smell after a summer's rain
When everything in sight is wash'd anew
The world seeming a little brighter now
That the summer rain is through

poem by John A. Hancock
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Sonnet # 50 William Shakespeare

Twas in merry olde England many a year ago
The bard weaved his sort'd tales
Of tragedy, revenge, love and comedy
Of each twas said he knew'th all to well
Oh how that quill must of scratched long into the night
Whilst he penn'd the words his heart held so dear
Surrounded by the glow of candle light, illuminating
A solitary figure t'which the world now so reveres
Romance dripped from every love fill'd sonnet
The two sexes to him was fair game
For he himself twas not prejudice against amour
For both he could love'th just the same
Sweet William in history did'st thou carve thy rightful place
When thee took thy pen in hand and enlighten'd the human race

poem by John A. Hancock
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Sonnet # 55 Destiny

Softly, tenderly do I kiss thy lips
Brushing aside a whisper of your silken hair
Whilst I marvel at the wonderous beauty you possess
And rejoice in the eternal love we share
Before my emotions were scatter'd like seeds upon the wind
Swept away by fate's unrelenting hand
Forced to roam the world I believe'd in an endless search
For love; Yet always to be a lonely man
But destiny rose to battle fate
With great strength destiny doth prevail
In victory our hearts were brought together, then
Upon the ship call'd 'True Love' doth we sail
So whilst upon the gentle waters as we cross the distant sea
Let our passion guide us to a place, a land call'd Destiny

poem by John A. Hancock
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Self-Analysis

A single candle illuminates a solitary figure
Whose reflection in the window stares
Back at a tormented soul dwelling
In the transparent realm of illusion
While hunch'd o'er a wooden desk
In a fevered bout of creativity
Bleeding upon tatter'd scraps of paper
Erratic emotional insights to copulate
With inspirational flights of fancy
Thus giving birth to childish words of
Romantic gibberish of sorrowful lines
Of misery fill'd lamentations
The flicker candle settles momentarily
Allowing blended shadows of light and darkness
To fall upon this lone occupant
Of a complex and occasional twisted reality
Who betwixt isolated lapses of confusion
Calls himself a poet

poem by John A. Hancock
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