Spring Clean. A poem.

The thinking mind is such a pain.
But wondering isn’t much to gain,
and wandering round in there, you see,
gets one lost in pointless reverie.

I want to arrest those layabout thoughts
loitering on my old street corners,
take them off to gaol where they
can loiter somewhere else, to play.

My plaguing dreams reveal the cost
of all the ones I’ve loved and lost,
that took a turn, are worse for wear,
now clutter and forlorn despair.

And so, a compromise of sorts,
in which all the things I’ve lost and sought,
my memories, all gone to seed,
will fade away with the next spring clean.

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Want to support Steve with a donation? Click on the donate link at the bottom of this page. Thanks!

Advertisements

Drifter. A poem.

When all the
                 lonely
                 drifters
                          are sleeping
                                         in their beds,
                 I will be out there
           drifting,
                   still no closer
                                   to my final goal.

For more of my poetry, check out The All or the Nothing, my first e-book, available at most online book sellers.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: