All journeys mimic a leaf’s passing, reminding and renewing moments past, where at an instant in time, life and death are at razor’s edge…
A little wine, a winter’s night, the illumination of my city, misty streets . . . wondering and staring in awe at the golden oak trees . . . leaves swirling at random to find their rest. . .
Reflections of all those vivid shades / Are passing with those misty days…........
NSFW
A tale of premature / births and phenomena: / of brick-red light / in the flurrying night (...)
Written in the spring of this year, and is largely biographical. Which is rare enough for my own writing, I usually characterise. Still, this is something a little new for me so it’s submitted as-is: without revision or prior critique.
Outside the wind is howling ever cold air / No stars can be seen in the heavenly skies / It is just a heartless night without any care / I l…
It is cold outside and winter. The howling wind blows its cold air reminding us of the time.
The pounding of the machines from the nearby coal mine covered his loud shrieks of cry for his mother. It wasn’t until later in the eveni…
A short story about an infant’s struggle for the right to live.
The first night it was cold enough / To see my breath / Rhythmically exhaled from the emptiness / Suspended before me / And then / Gone
With our faces pressed ‘gainst the icy pane / We stared into the night: / And by the light of the fleeting moon / We saw silver frost on whi…
Solstice Fire / By Rob Beckett Soft playful / Flowing flames / From nights / Cold grip released / Up rise to red / And licking tips / I…
_Written by Rob Beckett 8th May 2009 about our Solstice nights in a Barossa field under the stars drinking the finest wine with friends Carol & Erich and many more by the fire, into the wee small hours. What a wonderful life we lead. _
Wings folding over its stricken quarry / While death under this feathered shroud is not wary
The poem detailing the hunt of the snow owl
Days of summer and cold winter nights painted my face / Shades of blue, of gray / Tones of gold and amber / Darkness and light brought by ha…
Slow foot drums slightly to an unknown beat. / shimmers like a pond frozen over in the winter’s harsh vengence
wrapped in your pretty blue jacket in autumn sunlight / and winter nights.
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