Poems from the soul

Poems from the soul I love poetry and hope that I write words that reflect daily observations and life �

Its here again Summer is closing down,Shutting up shop.I already mourne it's demise.I fear the darkness that autumn brin...
12/09/2025

Its here again
Summer is closing down,
Shutting up shop.
I already mourne it's demise.

I fear the darkness that autumn brings.

The skies, now watery,
The sun shines but it's intensity is dulled.
No longer do the Swifts flit above the roof tops.
The Blackbirds sweet song now a distant memory.
Autumn is getting hold.

I love the colours autumn brings,
Initially a spectacle.
Vibrant, varied and warming.
A carpet of many colours.

The hues, soon die, leaving a dense splatter of gloom.
nights draw in, the fire is lit,
Light only comes from the lamp on the sideboard.
A subdued false light, It reflects my mood.
Sullen, down in the heart ❤️

Autumn is on my doorstep,
Summer has pulled down it's shutters
I mourne the loss of summer.

06/08/2025

My ashes shall be scattered,
Upon England's, sweet green land.
And spread across the ocean
On winds that blow the sands.
I shall be forever somewhere,
wherever that may be.

08/05/2025

V E Day 80
The Beaches

A thankful prayer we say,
For your bravery, on that day.
80 years have passed us by.
But we wont forget the souls that died.
Upon the beaches, bathed with sand
you clambered through cold seas to land,
what horrors bathed the view for you?
Bloody war.
Did you close your eyes
To keep the horrors at bay?
As your body trembled,
fear hidden beneath the cold wet uniform that you wore with pride.
What brave men to dare embark,
with the rising of the Lark.
How must your hearts have felt that day.
Thoughts abound within young minds,
Of home, of loved ones, far away,
as death approached them.
guns of war.
Their lives so young,
would be no more
No kisses from a sweetheart.
No child to wish goodnight.
No summers in the garden,
No winters in the snow,
for death befell the chosen.
The lord called for them that day.
He knew only they were worthy
to knock at heavens door.
Now when the fields of war do bloom,
Our heroes we can see,
they are the blood red poppies,
abundant wild and free.
Keep you tears inside your heart,
there can never be enough,
but remember how brave our heroes were,
when they stepped out at sea,
for our tomorrow's they gave their lives, they ensured that we were free.
Amen

The peaks Upon the highest peak,I gaze across the blighted moorland.Where once grass grew green.Now ashey black.The moor...
23/04/2025

The peaks

Upon the highest peak,
I gaze across the blighted moorland.
Where once grass grew green.
Now ashey black.

The moors were ablaze, again.
The peat beneath hot like coal.
Just a glint of from a broken bottle can ignite this precious land.

Culews nest, hares abound, but alas many are lost.

This moor is precious, an ecologically friendly gem.
Soaking up the carbon.
Cleaning our air in this beautiful peaceful place.

Let us pray that life on this land will thrive again.
So we may enjoy an amble upon Yorkshires peaks once more.

12/04/2025

He is back,
Upon his favourite tree.
My heart is filled with so much joy,
Mr Blackbird, you make my heart delight,
Seranading me each morning and night.
Upon your perch, your song so sweet,
Now winters cold and bitter winds are gone
Spring is bounding, blossom flourishing,
You spring across the green grass,
Feigning rain as you seek the early worm.
Mr Blackbird you warm my soul.
I can now see a light at the end of the long tunnel

Upon the hillUpon the hill,Climbing high above the river,The windows glisten gold.Where once weavers flogged, and slaved...
23/03/2025

Upon the hill

Upon the hill,
Climbing high above the river,
The windows glisten gold.
Where once weavers flogged, and slaved
To makes ends meet,
Their cottages bestowed with many a window.
Allowing the sun to bring natural light.

History still hugs the hill,
Though no smoke emits from the chimneys.
The once blackened stonework is now washed clean.

Here in this valley as old as time,
Wool was woven, worsted was made.
The finest cloth in all the land.

Once the luddites, walked the ancient trade paths, across the moors from Lancashire to Halilifax,
In fear for their livelihoods,
As machinery began to do their jobs.

But the mills were many,
their chimneys spewing acrid smoke.

Plenty of work for all,
For a pittance!

These workers made our town the best
In all the world.
Mill owners were rich but their greed was endless.
Alas the industry failed, in the end the need for the cloth was all but gone.

And now we mourne the death of the working mills,
No more do we hear the rythmic hum of the looms.
Now the many windows have curtains.
People live in comfort, where once the poor toiled.

The mills of Yorkshire still stand.

01/03/2025

Big shout out to my newest top fans! 💎 Tebogo Elvis

Drop a comment to welcome them to our community, fans

17/02/2025

Do you see me

Do you see me now?
I am the one you crushed with your vile power.
I am the one who cried,
As you took away my self esteem.
The one who you valued when times were good.
But threw aside if a mistake was made.

Do you see me now as the years pass by?
I am the one who worked until tears fell upon the floor.
I strove to be the best, and I was.
But you crushed me.
You had me watched.
It was like being stalked by a lion.
I won that battle, so you chose to ignore it.

Do you see me now?
I am the shadow on your wall.
When you see it do you feel shame?

I will never be the person I was.
But I can tell you a truth.
I am seen in glorious colours,
Like the rainbow 🌈 that forms after the storm.
I am valued for my worth.

The sun is gleaming,It lifts my mood.I sit in this chair as seasons pass by.But sunlight and autumn sparkle.A smile rise...
17/10/2024

The sun is gleaming,
It lifts my mood.
I sit in this chair as seasons pass by.
But sunlight and autumn sparkle.
A smile rises and I feel good.

03/06/2024

Mr Blackbird

Can you sing me one last song.
And fill my heart with joy.
Upon the branches of the sturdy old tree,
You sit.
Your song is heard across the neighbourhood.
How people must relish its poetry.

I long for spring.
Because as sure as night follows day
You will be back.
Filling us with hopes for long sunny days.

Mr Blackbird, you may be plain,
But your song is all the colours of the rainbow 🌈
Your beauty is endless.

16/05/2024

Upon this shore,
Washed clean with the tide,
Where the ripples are bountiful.
The waters cold as the spring air.

I watch the waves, enthralled at the beauty before me.
The gusty wind thrashes the surf.
The voluminous swell crashing hard against the craggy cliffs.
It's surging force creating a frothy foam.
The power such a spectacle to behold.

Then, but for a moment, it simply laps against the rock, easing its ferocity.

This island,
Where chalk and limestone cliffs look down to beaches far and wide,
Is such a beauty.
As ancient as the world.
And always England.

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Huddersfield

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