Tag: Poem

  • Dreams Are Near

    Upon the sun-warmed rock they lay, Two rulers of the golden day. The lion’s mane, a tangle bold, The lioness, serene, controlled. Their kingdom vast, yet dreams are near, The grasslands hush so they can hear Each other’s breath, a gentle song, Two rumbling snores, low, deep, and strong. The sky turns soft, the shadows →

  • The Little Guard

    He stands on the rug where the battles are fought, A plastic fort built from a child’s thought. With helmet askew and a rifle held tight, He guards the keep through the day and the night. The walls are bright white, the gate doesn’t close, But he keeps his watch as if facing real foes. →

  • The Shining Blade

    Hear, ye halls, this tale of old, Of shining steel and courage bold; When dragons woke and darkness spread, A paladin rose where angels tread. With helm agleam and banner high, He swore no evil would slip by. Through dungeons deep, through caverns grim, The light of heaven burned through him. “Stand fast!” he cried, →

  • The Hand of Somerset

    The meadow lies wide in the pale spring sun, Men with barrows and spades move as one. Earth breathes loam where the turf is pared, Each sod a square of a farmer’s care. Horse teams snort at the iron share, Larks rise singing from fields laid bare. In coats of tweed and caps pulled low, →

  • Currents Run Wide

    Deep in the sea where the currents run wide, Ollie the Octopus drifted with pride. Eight arms like banners, he twirled in the blue, Dreaming of battles with foes he’d subdue. But one icy morning, from galaxies far, There roared a machine like a cold shooting star. A Snowspeeder swooped with its harpoons and might, →

  • Quack and Splat

    Donald Duck put on a hat, It wobbled this way, quack! and splat! His feather flopped across his nose, He sneezed so loud it shook his clothes! He grabbed a sword (a little bent), And off to guard the king he went. But trip—ker-plop!—he tumbled down, Right in the middle of the town. Still Donald →

  • Calloused Hands

    Before the city stirs, he’s there, Axle groaning, cold in the air. Horse breath steams in the gray of dawn, Another load of timber drawn. Elm and oak cut down by hand, Stacked for heat through a winter’s span. Homes without coal, or coin to spare, Turn to his cart for their share. Fingers split →

  • When Carpet Was Sand

    In corduroy trousers and scuffed-up shoes, A boy on the carpet, lost in his muse. Sunlight streams through the net-curtained pane, As battle begins on the living room plain. His fingers grip the plastic frame, Of Action Man, proud with a soldier’s name. Eagle eyes that never blink, A scarred cheek drawn with a crimson →

  • Bog and Braid

    In mist-wrapped dawns where the curlew cried, Across the moor so wild and wide, They walked with tools on shoulders worn— The peatfolk of the upland morn. Boots sank deep in sodden ground, Where silence held a haunting sound. Their breath rose white, the heather stirred, And not a single word was heard. With spade →

  • You Shall Not Pass!

    By shadow crowned and fire shod, it came— An ancient terror, born of flame. In halls where dwarves once carved the stone, A deeper evil made its throne. Beneath the peaks of Caradhras’ crown, In Khazad-dûm, now fallen down, It slumbered long in darkened tomb, A wrathful wraith in timeless gloom. But greed unearthed what →