Short poems

You’re the rose in me.

You’re the rose in me.


If only I could pronounce evil as love turn chaos to doves, demons to God.

If only I could shut that door like they keep saying I should.

If I could handle a rose with delicate prose that didn’t draw blood.

If only I could.

There’s a world of unanimous decisions they all seem to be happy living.

There’s a world of “if only’s” they’re constantly grieving.

If only I could bring them healing.

Perhaps then I’d not be forever feeling.

© G.P Williamson 2018


A little heartfelt glen or brook.

A little heartfelt glen or brook.


A little glen or brook I guess they’d call it.

I mistook the two but the leprechaun pawned it.

Stole my words and bartered and bought it.

It, It, It, he sold It.

Collaborative demons, sport races with smiles on both faces.

Heads turn, bodies burn as wings take flight and turn.

Speed demons, red ribbons, sporadic choices, a host of choices, schizophrenic causes.

Ran roads, squashed toads. Reddit, splat and gooey toes.

Horses hooves, midnight shoes.

Changing the game but she’s the same, hustled dreams in a million ways.

She’s always a different symbolic conclusion but I can’t be rid of my favourite illusion.

© G.P Williamson 2018

Short poems

Desire – The look.

Desire – the look.


She didn’t think she was sexy until she felt my mind cup her breast with a look.

I held her soul in mine with pure fingertips and sinful desire.

I smiled.

She perspired.

She didn’t think she was sexy,

she knew.

She knew I knew it too.

© G.P Williamson 2018

Short poems




I’m going to make enough magic to purchase the moon.

Leave it there smiling like a big round fool.

Watching me scrimp and scrape for handouts after working away the year.

My moon is still clear, bright and full luna.

The music didn’t sell, I couldn’t hold a tune.

The pied piper is yelling but he’s yelling at my moon.

© G.P Williamson 2018

Short poems

Deer! – A perfect ending.

I had the privilege of working with a small team of grounsdmen for a beautiful area in Kent for a few weeks. The grounds contained a private golf course and some stunning scenery the likes of which I’ve never seen previously and likely will not get to see again. Contained within over a hundred acres of land were deers, foxes, shrews and other animals. I was lucky enough to be approaching the ninth hole (a beautiful view of rolling hills and cottages) when two deer jumped out framing the view in an iconic picture. They froze and stood looking at me for several seconds and then just ran off. It was enough time for me to commit it to memory permanently, and to think I was actually getting paid to do that job. How lucky. Five minutes before my last time on site I was called over by another Groundsman. “Shhhh” he whispered pointing down a tree covered shingle bed pathway. I popped my head beneath the shadowy trees and saw the biggest deer I’ve ever seen. He just stood looking at us for at least thirty seconds and then just vanished. Perfect ending to a great job.



Deer! Be still my beating heart and walk don’t run.

Tiptoe before they’re gone.

Don’t capture just confine this bliss to memory.

Photograph in snapshot form this art before me.

Keep the storm still of this wonderous hierarchy.

Add to this a hidden tunnel of majestic awareness.

Like a unicorn in the pleasure dome with no horn I’m called forth.

“Shhhh” he whispered pointing to a different lane.

There he stood all perfect.

In my mind like the rain.

© G.P Williamson 2018


Loved to death.

Loved to death.


You fulfil me like a diary.

You keep all my secrets safe.

Naive to place them in a human, naive to trust so few!

How dare I scoff at reason when logic has no clue.

You protect me in your chains and chain me with your hopes.

I hold you with my fears and I wonder how you cope.

I love you with my soul.

It’s not possible with your mind?

They often do forget the two are quite entwined.

I’ll bring you second guesses but not without first thoughts.

I’ll drown you with affection and then smother you with my heart.

© G.P Williamson 2018


It feels like dying.

It feels like dying.


I’m here and it feels like dying.

It’s silly how the hours will fly and feel like years when I’m gone.

I have to remember, I’m not the only one.

I see you change, grow, learn and progress.

I watch your cheeky smile, eyes glisten, wink and kiss.

Sometimes just not being in the same room and it’s you I miss.

I’m here and it feels like dying, but I’m not the only one.

I see your fear about the mortgage with your manicured suit and smile on.

I’m not alone, the thought doesn’t please me.

Soldiers of slavery unite against me.

I’d rage against the machine but the alternative’s prison.

There’s something missin.

A closed door to faith in the graveyard of truth.

The death of humanity.

Whatever it is at least I have my own sanity.

Look at me!

Sit up and see!

I’m unimportant, I go to work diligently.


Take part!

Don’t leave me alone in a place I can’t depart.

Wait! let me start…

My home is that place we call the heart.

Your life I watch at my window frame. In the little snips as it stops, freeze frame by frame.

I want to play a new game.

Where we don’t record moments, we live them daily.

Where I see you grow from baby to lady.

Where I’m at the beach and we go to the zoo.

Where you’re scared of the dark and I’m there scared too!

I want to be the dad you look up to.

The dad that’s also a friend.

I guess I’m selfish.

I don’t want your childhood to end.

I’d play pretend forever in a world of fictional bliss.

It wouldn’t be half as good as a world where we both actually exist.

You’re so lucky in what you have.

You do have the best mum and dad.

So sometimes when those tears of joy make you mad, don’t be sad.

I love you,



© G.P Williamson 2018