Drawn To You


There you sit,
Across the platform from me,
It may as well be,
A world away.
***
You don’t notice me,
You never have,
Our lives cross every day,
But never our hearts.
***
Have you ever seen me,
Looking at you,
Hoping you,
Were looking at me too?
***
I would make a move,
If I only knew,
Who you were,
Or why I was drawn to you.

Soaring Like A Sunlit Dream


I feel you there,
Hidden from view,
You lift me up,
When I am blue,
You are with me,
Every night,
You whisper softly,
You give me flight,
I dream I’ll see you,
But I wake not to,
The thought of you,
Fills me with warmth,
You send me soaring,
Like a sunlit dream.

PeskyPoetry: An Anthology (Signed)


I’m auctioning off a copy of PeskyPoetry: An Anthology signed by The PeskyPoet himself (me)… You can grab a copy by going to the link below.
https://www.ebay.com/itm/143284136467

Migraine


It starts off like a trickle,
A flick of the light,
A trick of the eye,
A bit of the blind,
The it hits like a brick,
Right at the back of the head,
The throbbing,
The light,
The wishing for death,
But after a while,
It all goes away,
The pain subsides,
The brain relaxes,
The main is over,
Next is the mood,
It’s up so high,
It’s down so low,
It’s all over the place,
Not knowing where to go,
And all that is left,
Is feeling drained,
That is my attacks,
Of a migraine.

My ABCz


After so much time,
Building a poetry profile,
Chances are I’ve written enough,
Done my fair share worthwhile,
Even when times were tough,
For a novice to write,
Gives a sense of pride,
Helping create my highlights,
Impressing those where I bide,
Just the thought of a challenge,
Keeps me writing all night,
Like an eagle with talons,
Makes me want to take flight,
No-one said it’d be easy,
Only that it’d be fun,
Playing with words like breezy,
Quenches me when I’m done,
Right when I wan’t to stop,
Seems to be the perfect time to start,
To write something that pops,
Until the sky is dark,
Verging on the redundant,
With the chance of being bad,
Xerographically showing what is abundant,
Yearning to make you glad,
Zooming me forward.

A Poet Without Their Pen


A poet without her pen,
Is a poet without her voice.
Muted and silent,
For no-one to read.
Unheard among the masses,
Unseen among the trees.
***
A poet without his pen,
Is a poet without his power.
Weak and feeble,
Not able to help.
Unable to fight injustice,
Unacknowledged in the struggle.
***
A poet with their pen,
Is a poet at their strongest.
Loud and visible,
Speaking for those who can’t.
Shouting for those in need,
Screaming to help the world.

Winter of Love


As the nights grow cold,
the leaves on the trees grow weary,
But the heart grows warm,
and the legs grow steadfast.
*
Where the certainty of the winter,
the lining of frost,
and the snow falls,
now grow the uncertainty of love.
*
The heart calls,
the leaves fall,
the mind feels,
the wind knows,
All will be well in the end.