Poetry in eMotion

Poetic society for all active poetry lovers

Author: breda ware (page 2 of 8)

First Light

 

First Light

The dawn stretches and yawns,
With stealth like precision,
Eroding the ebony robes of the night,
Enticing the sun to once more rise,
With shafts of celestial light.

Nocturnal creatures burrow,
With haste into the ground.
Mindful not to make much sound.
For fear of their lair being found,
Despite existing deep underground.

The forest omits an eerie sound,
Of marauding deer all around.
A proud stag barking can be heard,
With vigilance he observes his herd.
Protection, being the optical word.

Breda Ware

Crossroads Of Life

Contagious now your smile it seems,
How often now your features beam.
A light has returned in your eyes,
With laughter banishing any demise.
You boldly commence to build anew,
A future mapped out primarily for you.
Frowned by others? possibly true!
Never by those, whom truly love you.

Breda Ware

“Invictus”

Independence, we possess with pride.
Never allowing disability to hold us back.
Victorious, with utmost effort to achieve,
Invictus, the equivalent aim of the games.
Courageously our comrades participate,
Together with soul and heart, take part.
Unconquered, alongside each we will achieve,
Steadfast in the knowledge of what it means.

Breda Ware

Sometimes

Some times it’s would be nice to be asked; not told.
Sometimes it would be nice to be held; not hold.
Sometimes it would be nice to talk; not scold.
Sometimes it would be nice to admire; not despair.
Sometimes it would be nice to relax; not collapse.
Sometimes it would be nice to be respected; not rejected.

Breda Ware

 

Borrowed Time

 

Now that I’m living on borrowed time,
Thoughts and feelings come to mind.
Of things I truly need to say,
Before I’m permanently taken away.

Mistakes I’ve made many or few,
Not intentional, to hurt or harm you.
Memories held at one time strong,
Sadly fading soon forgotten; gone.

Failings, mistakes many ’tis true’,
Never intended or directed at you.
Bonds held strong alas, sadly gone,
Exists now only in ballads or song.

Perfume once worn a intimate smell,
Indistinguishable unable to tell.
What I wore and how I dressed,
Eventually will vanish come to rest.

All that’s left for me to say,
In readiness for that fateful day.
Is closure before I end my days,
Grant me only this much I pray.

Breda Ware

 

 

Ode to Widget

Ode to Widget

Truly a little treasure you are to us,
Lovingly loyal and full of trust.
Always eager, for a cuddle or fuss.

You’re wickedly mischievous,
Always getting into stuff,
Even though at times, it makes us cuss.

Attention seeking, you’ve mastered well,
With bright button eyes and a wagging tail.
You know it works; it never fails!

Breda Ware

 

 

Broken (Skeltonic Verse)

Why you got to do the things you do?
Is it cause you like being the fool?
Why you wasted time at school?
Hell bent on breaking every rule.

Why you got to shame me so?
Broken should I now let go?
Why you do like what you do?
I’d appreciate some kind of clue.

Why you got to disrespect me so?
Is it cause you want me to let go?
Why you got to run with the pack?
You can do better than that.

Why you need to break my heart?
Do you enjoy tearing me apart?
Why you torture me the way you do?
When all I want is the best for you.

Why you got to do what you do?
Why must I serve time for you?
Why you always bringing up the past?
Today might well be my last!

Breda Ware

 

 

 

 

 

Street Talk

STREET TALK

A ‘storm in a teacup’ trivial our tiff to you, sadly ’tis’ I’m that’s left ‘to stew’.
‘Water under the bridge’ ‘tant’ easy to say, while I’m left empty day after day.
‘Too blind to see’ the pain intentionally you inflicted on me, in a cruel attempt to ‘bring me to my knees’.
Caught ‘between a rock and a hard place’ what options are left for me?
‘Tis’ evident I’m ‘flogging a dead horse’ , best it’s left ‘to run its course’.
‘What goes around comes around’ that’s what they say,
I will be patient ‘I’ll have my day’.

Breda Ware

In My Dreams

 I saw you in my dreams last night,
Surrendering, no need to take flight.
You held me close so very tight,
Effortless, didn’t put up a fight.
Tenderly held with all your might,
Slumbering peacefully toward first light.
Looking on such a tranquil sight,
Fills my heart with pure delight.

Awoke by a blinding pure white light,
Desperate to seek the previous sight,
Of you cradling me through the night.
Arms flailing, jerking madly as a kite,
As I struggle with all my might.
To regain that sublime, precious sight.
Fearing the worst I take fright,
Backing away from that celestial light.

A gentle kiss you plant on tired eyes,
Instantly removed from that cruel demise.
The morning chorus from the early bird,
With much relief is clearly heard.
Listening to his joyful song,
Beneath the covers where I belong.

Breda Ware 

Ole McFly’s Flight

Ole McFly was a funny old guy,
A funny old guy was Ole McFly.
With a ticket tucked in a grubby flat cap,
Jacket fashioned from an old grain sack.
Sets off for the airport to take a flight,
Travelling through the dead of night.

Ole McFly was a strange old guy,
A strange old guy was Ole McFly.
Folk open mouthed stood and stared,
As he rode in astride his loyal mare.
Handing her over to Rose McFlay,
For the duration while he’s away.

Ole McFly that peculiar old guy,
A peculiar old guy was Ole McFly.
Didn’t hanker on long goodbyes,
He had no notion how to fly.
Luggage none; other than a sack,
Which he carried upon his back.

Ole McFly was a comely old guy,
A gentle old guy was Ole McFly.
With child like twinkle in his eye,
Watch’s in awe clouds passing by.
McMoucha awaits his arrival in a cart,
Eager for new adventures to start.

Breda Ware

 

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