Short poems

Endlessly Winking.

Endlessly winking.

05/12/17

Tonight the shutter winked endlessly, capturing your memories until you were nothing but a blur in the aura of candlelight.

I was as cold as I was warmed.

You saw through me until we were one another’s memory.

I just hope you recall as often as I do.

Sleep until the day we meet again.

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems, Short poems

Thankyou.

Thankyou.

21/06/15

If tonight you were to vanish.

A few stars would twinkle dim.

I’d ache a little piece inside.

A part of me would thin.

Bring out that shining rainbow.

Progress through all the dirt.

You are the pot of gold.

You eased many of my hurts.

Thankyou for the memories.

Bless you for the drink.

I’m honored for the chats,

and how you taught me to think.

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems, Short poems

Balloons on the water.

Balloons on the water.

06/11/17

Balloons set free like parts of the ego.

Released independently lighter and more fluid in motion,

cascading marbles drift out over the ocean.

White lights of bright daylight as the sun bites a reminder to hold tight.

This rotating cannonball in one swoop could clear us all.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

River Balloons

06/11/17

The river runs wild, tepid and tame.

The river runs open thinner and shared.

The river runs broader, wider and famed.

The river runs danger, calmer with games.

The river runs,

and it’s always the same.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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Short poems

Behave

Behave

30/10/17

Behave she said reluctantly in a tone she didn’t mean.

Laughing, joking, jovially in a place like evergreen.

The warm warped willow bent softly to her will.

For them both a treasured time.

A photo if you will.

Captured in the budding throbs of a thousand nestling bee’s.

A highlight of a Summer day hidden within the trees.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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poems

Tiny pictures (Short)

Tiny pictures

17/06/2017

My body flakes away aimlessly in tiny reflective mirrors, cascading in all directions tiny pictures of who I used to be.

Confusing themselves with memories I’ve yet to have.

Gravity holds no place here the only way is outwards.

Like failing grasps of a broken heart desiring the neediness of a new freedom.

Flaking away, giving my all until found or worse.

There’s no me’s left to give, perhaps this is just a reflection of a poem I used.

 

© G.P Williamson 2017

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