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Adult Poems

Poem. Retrospect.

Retrospect. . . How many things in a life Have any lasting importance. There are so many little things That cause surprise, upset, pain And sleepless nights by the score That are unremembered In the scheme of things. If only we could have known this At the time they occurred. When you take a longer […]

Poem: There Is A Place.

There Is A Place. . . There is a place where we fish Down on the River Tyne, And it is always a pleasure to go there. The tiny beach is stony, Large water smoothed pebbles And rotting bicycle parts, With a drooping old tree Hanging over the water. However, if you stand really still […]

Poem: Stamps Are Very Small.

Stamps Are Very Small. . . Stamps are very small You can tuck them anywhere, But they have such power. One careful lick And they will happily carry All of your written thoughts To any place you choose Unhindered and entire. No systems going down But a real and palpable presence In another place Redolent […]

Poem: Morning Breath.

Morning Breath. . . Lying here, beside you In our rumpled morning bed I am not much surprised by anything. You give off heat like a stove. I would get up and leave you But my heart is satisfied, So I just lie here, leg outside the covers To try to cool down a bit. […]

Poem: Ask For More.

Ask For More. . Don’t you want more than this. There is far more to life then you ask. The terrible thing about it all Is that you will probably get Exactly what you say you want. Why don’t you ask for the moon And then demand the stars, Ask for joy and fun and […]

Poem: Familiarity Breeds.

Familiarity Breeds. . They have lived together now For almost a lifetime, They sleep and eat and live each day Alongside, yet growing apart. They know all that they wish to know From the repetitive litany of personal preference. They speak but do not listen They have their eyes open but do not see. How […]

Poem: Secret Squirrel.

Secret Squirrel. . . It is all in the hands Of the old rain gods. Though we won’t accept it They do have complete control Even in Virginia. Looking into the silver mirror Is the way to communicate With the old knowledge Buried in the deep cover . .

Poem: Married Time.

Married Time. . . It is the inheritance Of all our partnered time, The simple habits learned, The quirks accommodated. It’s the toast that’s slightly burned To suit a wayward taste, The spoons in bed, the colour red, The sum of all the words we’ve said. . .

Poem: Moth.

Moth. . . Bewitched Spellbound And entranced Like Trilby With her Svengali. . . The story of Svengali and Trilby, written by George Du Maurier, was first published in 1894. It became a bestseller and was made into an excellent film in 1931. . . .

Poem: Dead Time.

Dead Time. . . At  3 am, Looking around A shadowed bedroom, It all seems to be charged With a great expectancy. . .