We found treasure
on the forest floor
scattered pinecones
shining silvery-white
in the winter frost-glow
and the cool
pearl sun.
Thanks for taking the time today’s poem. I can’t believe there’s only ten left. December is going by far too quickly.
Remember to come back tomorrow for the next calendar door to be opened.
Take It Easy,
Paul
The sky is full of stars
in the winter chill
they resemble snowflakes
trapped on an indigo canvas
and although they won’t fall
to give hot frozen kisses
never melting on the earth
or rosy cheeks
they act as a beacon
a beacon of hope for
childhood fun
and nostalgia
- snow is a possibility.
Thanks for reading today. I hope your week is off to a great start.
Feliz Navidad,
Paul
Cheeks burning
from snowflake kisses
frozen tears trapped
like salty rock pools
this is joy painting my face
at the wonder of winter.
I hope you have enjoyed your weekend, I definitely have. I can’t believe in two weeks Santa will have done his years work!
Thanks for stopping by and reading the advent calendar.
Merry December 11th
Paul
Frosted rooftops glinting
in the lazy low winter sun
tiny footprints of the blackbird
stand frozen in time
if only for a moment
the chimneys sigh
giving the milky blue sky
its only clouds for the day
the stillness feels safe
the stillness feels peaceful
the stillness feels hopeful.
I can’t believe it’s already December 10th. Only two more weeks worth of poems in this years advent calendar. Have you had chance to read many of the collection so far?
Have a fantastically festive weekend,
Paul
It feels like a book
you say confidently
weighing the present in your hands
and when you unwrap
down the seam of the sticky tape
there’s joy in your face
reflected
in the framed photo staring back
you take pause
smiling in memory
and you pick up the next gift
obviously a Toblerone.
Thanks for taking the time to read my poem. I hope you enjoyed it.
Do you try to guess what’s under the paper?
Let me know in the comments.
Take It Easy,
Paul
Holding hands in fresh gloves
we walk the Winter woods;
it’s quiet on Boxing Day morning;
probably too many bad heads sleeping it off.
The essence of Chris is still hanging in the air,
from the tall pine sentries lining our route,
watching us in the scarves wrapped around our faces;
the same scarves muffling our voices,
and the words we get wrong,
singing the Christmas songs everyone knows.
We ask each other to name their favourite part of Christmas so far;
I say spending time with you;
I know I say the same thing every year but it’s the truth;
and you say the same.
I’m lost in your hazelnut eyes when snow begins to fall;
I wonder what it would be like to be frozen in time;
right here, right now, in this very moment;
but when the soft snowflake hits my cheek;
I wake up from my festive fog,
and we walk on
– destination unknown.
Wishing you all a Merry Christmas and Festive Good Fortune,
Paul
The worst kind of thief there is,
is the one who steals another’s words
then speaks them silver-lipped
and serpent-tongued
or writes them with crooked finger
and poisoned pen
without appreciating their weight
or realising their value
only seeing inked shapes on paper
not the skill it took in crafting those shapes
so when you’re caught
and our expressions of love,hope,pain & hurt
are reclaimed by us
the ones who have enough courage
to share our story with the world
I hope you are wordless, you are voiceless
a blank piece of paper blowing in the wind.
This poem was written following an issue where a few people were being plagiarised. The last straw was when war poetry was stolen from the pens of others , their name displayed as the original.
This is my feeling towards people who steal the words of others and say they are their own.
Take It Easy
Paul
I welcome Autumn
as she drapes me
in a blanket of bronze and straw-gold
whispering seductive sweet promises of
late lavender sunrises
and delicious red sunsets
she mentions velvet night-skies flecked with tiny diamonds
and an occasional silent symphony by the Northern Lights
even the rain softens under her presence
guiding acorns to ground
while winged sycamores float safely down
and when the wind wraps itself around her
it whistles happily
carrying her scent of blackberry and pear
feeding my nostalgia of years gone by
everything about Autumn is chaos
everything about Autumn is just so
I long for her and her embrace to return
by the time Winter shakes my hand
with his icy fingers.
Thanks for taking the time to read this poem , I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave any comments you may like.
Take It Easy,
Paul
Hi everyone, I would like to share some big news.
A few weeks ago, I was asked by the amazingly talented poet Damien B. Donnelly, who also runs Eat the Storms poetry podcast to join him to read some of my poems on his show.
Finally, I was able to free up some time and join him on the podcast (making my podcast debut, no less!) and the episode came out on Saturday October 9th at 5pm GMT. (I have just finished listening to the podcast thats why this is coming out at just after 6pm!)
The episode is Season 3, ep 14 and there are some incredible poets reading some outstanding work. You can listen on Spotify and most other podcast platforms. Why not get stuck into all the previous episodes as well?!
The Eat The Storms website can be found here: https://eatthestorms.com/
A direct link to the episode featuring me is here: https://open.spotify.com/show/0mOECCAcx0kMXg25S0aywi
Thanks for reading and hopefully listening,
Paul 🙂
The last of the dahlias
were picked last week
ruby red, imperial, majestic
they ruled the garden
so to let them drown
in the relentless October rain
would have been sacrilege
instead, we slipped them into a glass-vase coma
keeping them alive
until scarlet turned to rust
and petals slipped away
and we were ready to say our farewells
softened stems were carried
and placed among the compost pile
so memories of their life
can grow a new family of flora
and their majesty return.
———
Thanks for taking the time to read my poem. Please feel free to have a look around my site for more of my work.
Take It Easy
Paul
Paul Writes Poems 