Category Archives: edenbray pomes

I ACCEPT YOU AS YOU ARE …

I ACCEPT YOU AS YOU ARE … … … The avenue of true reconciliation is lined with olive trees … The oil of gladness is an anointing for the soul upon your head … My peace is caught up inside … Continue reading

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RUNNING TO RUNNYMEDE!

Running to Runnymede There was hardly time to gather sorbet moments Nor harness the power of life’s general circumstance I had spent my whole life crisscrossing rail-tracks Stumbled blind upon the important & the tall   Like a cryptic tale, you … Continue reading

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WHEN THE DATE RAN OUT IN THE MORNING RAIN …

When The Date Ran Out In The Morning Rain … .. .. I can’t believe that the date ran out in the morning rain The page had slipped, the sail had shipped, the needle skipped, the kipper flipped and the … Continue reading

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WILD HORSES

Wild Horses ..         And Engret, writing in the sand, wiping a tear from the corner of a bloodshot eye With the sound of waves crashing, like his heart pounding, relentless and broken The Arabian stallion, muzzled, silenced, … Continue reading

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YES, I’M SURE IT IS VERMILLION!

Yes, I’m Sure It Is Vermillion … ~~~ I had spent at least an hour in this hot mustard, salad-sun While two small flies made circles around my sweaty head The August corn waving tall and tidy, a yellow sea, … Continue reading

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THE ARTIST

 THE artist           ..                 .. I am the artist   I am the window I am the camera   I am the cymbal I am the mother   I … Continue reading

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THE POET

   The Poet     Yes, the poet knows solitude The hard side of the wood The rough side and callow, the bare and the rawhide splintered, sore and fallow .. He knows silent winters Honest earth, bitten raw Hooded … Continue reading

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SHE WAS …

She was Caught between two schools, or stools, Of thought and age, of custom and practice, Wrested from her sex, hers and the image Her culture and influence, shocking! Amy’s tallow flickered in the half light Of obscurity and fame, … Continue reading

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THE DIARY

THE DIARY – MY DIARY Tristan’s savage sonnets play The rocky face of Alba’s coast While Mr. Machievalas trips into view On a new red street in Bermondsey West The police were wandering around there in 1973 But lately, only 2 … Continue reading

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WAVES

  WAVES Countless, phosphorous, rushing and over the smooth stones, they fall Overlapping earth boundaries wearing at the harsh edge of form Gathering, shaping, smoothing destinies, times mementos Here they lift, there they fail each one a measured throw a … Continue reading

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