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I saw it on a winters day as i pretended to be a poet?

The sky is painted
speckled grey on grey,
the masterpiece of some great
unknown artist,
I am sure he is of another world,
will not quite sure?
but you know what I mean!
not much sun,
just light and glimmers of hope
breaking through
the morning dawn,
an illusion,
that entices my mind
for the snow is gently falling,
tenderly blanketing
the yearning earth,
I could have said murky ground?
but my pen refused to co-operate,
watching this scene unfold,
I remember the time,
there were 173 joyous ravens,
playing tag
in the field outside my window,
they choreographed dances,
of jigs,two steps and of course
for all of cordavea,
would perform great ballets and plays,
very seldom seen by the eyes of man,
but enjoyed immensely by
mother nature,
and all those she held close
to her heart,
in her realm of truth and happiness,
yes they play tag my friends!
just watch the sky,
nothing else but the sky,
before you die?
what a sight,
if only you could have seen,
my oh my oh my,
painting pictures in the snow,
where a murder of crows,
cackling the songs of those long gone
into the northern wind,
tapping feet to the northern lights,
dripping ink from feathers
of silken black,
so happy to impress the ravens
where they,
even the brothers grimm,
sat in amazement at the wonderment,
taking place,
in the field outdside my mind,
I mean window?
all there for the taking,
I must have took 1364,
some of them I send to you,
for I just pretend,
but you are true ,
to the words of the ravens,
that reek havoc within my
erratic mind,
for the poetry is written
upon your soul,
oh how they laughed and danced
a circle around my thoughts,
but still so happy to release there words,
to a fool like me,
they stood high,
so,so high,
on their wire legs,
there leather hoods,
blowing in the December wind,
devoid of the sins of man,
they beckoned in unison to the sky,
young man,
they cried,
take more take more take more,
even thought at the time
I was 94 yrs young,
with a fading song and a lonely heart,
all I could do was
cry cry cry,
for now that im 51,
seldom are there more than 22,
my friend,
I tell you to no end,
the poetry is still there,
as a matter of fact,
Its everywhere!

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I saw it on a winters day as i pretended to be a poet? by 

simple man…simple words…simple thoughts…

to two great friends here on RB…I tink you will know….maybe even understand…..

on the brink of insanity….


  • IzzyGumbo
    IzzyGumboabout 3 years ago

    here, take my hand
    in.sane might be
    where we stand
    on the brink
    a thinker
    of grand
    he’s simple
    in the thoughts
    of man

    but his words
    are write bright
    of the hand;

  • thank you IzzyGumbo…your words humble me…

    – Rocky Loder

  • IzzyGumbo
    IzzyGumboabout 3 years ago

    Rocky, I do love how you write. ;)

  • thank you susan…much appreciated…

    – Rocky Loder

  • CanyonWind
  • thank you PoPs…truly appreciated…

    – Rocky Loder

  • sandra22
    sandra22about 3 years ago

    if friendship was a mighty raft
    and heartfelt was the sea
    I’d float my boat across the waves
    to spend some time with thee
    yet the keyboard knows not distance
    and the waves of space are still
    and you my friend so humble
    yet a poet, that I will..
    to share in your adventures
    through a life of honest real
    a learned account of Newfie land
    that thanks to you, I feel

    Greetings to you and yours, my Canadian pancake with maple syrup (yummo!) friend, Rocky
    One of the many many many special aspects of the Red Bubble community, is that we can share and learn so much of another and maybe of the country where they live…I have learnt much about Canada and am always grateful, chuffed in fact :)
    Thank you Rocky
    Sandra x

  • thank you sandra…i agree its a great community…who knows maybe we will have a coffee somsday…

    – Rocky Loder

  • Lisa  Jewell
    Lisa Jewellabout 3 years ago

    a poet is a voice and a whisper
    no block by block age barrier
    you wear your heart like leaves
    this makes the road a nice step

    beautiful is your muse and your ink x

  • thank you Lisa Jewell…you are a great poet….i appreciate your kind words…

    – Rocky Loder

  • highbeam
    highbeamabout 3 years ago

    A soul whispers on the cold night winds and you toy with us as much as the crows do out your window (I mean your mind… either way). This is brilliant, as your writings so often are, and a wonderful distraction from the cold itself. Stay warm Rocky, great writing here. I see sparks!

  • thank you Russell my friend…much appreciated…

    – Rocky Loder

  • evon ski
    evon skiabout 3 years ago

    i thoroughly enjoyed this piece, felt like I was pulled into a dance and I love that sensation. I will read again. Way to go!!

  • thank you yvonca…glad you liked it…much appreciated…

    – Rocky Loder

  • TheWanderingBoo
    TheWanderingBooabout 3 years ago

    awesome write

  • thank you Boo….

    – Rocky Loder

  • Patricia Anne McCarty-Tamayo
    Patricia Anne ...over 2 years ago

  • Thank you so much Patricia…so very sorry for such a late reply…

    – Rocky Loder

  • TheBrit
    TheBritalmost 2 years ago

    A wonderful write Rocky …

  • Thank you Brit….. really appreciated….

    – Rocky Loder

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