Short poems




It was an aging gift with an unaging heart.

Like the love for the fields would live forever no matter the body’s devastation.

Words couldn’t explain that kind of manifestation.

You only need seek the eyes of the wolf to gain clarification.

© G.P Williamson 2017



The wolf in the kitchen

The wolf in the kitchen.


The wolf in the kitchen.
Red eye’s tresspass beyond the cupboard doors.
Watching without fear.
Looking without need.
Feeding upon desire.
Mentally attuned to it’s unwitting prey.

Laughing at your conversation.
The way you dance by youself.
Each time you’ve felt less than.
That’s the wolf who stole your glory.
How you leave butter on the side or can never crack an egg cleanly.

The wolf in the kitchen.
Forestation through cucumber roses.
Herbs and spices where time lapses.
Cherry tomatoes where the red is so succulent it leaves marks on your lips.

Red eyes tresspass beyond the cupboard doors.

©G.P Williamson 2017


Dancing wolves

Dancing wolves


Dancing wolves and stepping stones.
Old English sheep dogs, broken bones,
Barnyard noises, animal howls.
Mixed up people, two lost souls.

Divided they’d conquer.
Together they’re blessed.
Would they survive when put to the test.

Dancing wolves and stepping stones.
Water ripples two lost crows.
Midnight moon upon your face.
I found you here you are my place.

Divided they’d conquer,
If they were apart.
Barnyard noises, brand new start.

Copyright G.P Williamson 2013