Archive for the ‘poems’ Category

Solstice

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Crisp leaves in Dodnash wood
Fingers of light spread their good
Creatures nestle, ground does freeze
While pine, birch, and fern do breeze

Forked paths and sinewed earth
Nature’s bounty beyond all worth
Mother and son again do bond
A journey across the pond

Father’s presence is well felt
Two souls warmed in his pelt
Gentle talk and deep reflection
Of lives fully led with conviction

Fields are brown in anticipation
For spring’s new implantation
But for now a kindly walk
And gentle contemplation

Hare, badger, squirrel gone
Bees and flies still undone
Frosty crunch under foot
Laces loose on each boot

Light low and pinkly calm
Descending cold and branches bare
A warm hearth ends their roam
Food, love, and laughter they do share

 

 

The House

 

the house

A marble runs its random path.

Floorboards creak with spirit feet.

Agnes and Eloise sent their wrath;

the logs, lathe and plaster last.

 

Nordic design conquers the past.

Smooth wood polished with care.

Sits a leather and Van der Rohe chair,

soft pile carpets add a modern flair.

 

Games, drinks; a father in the know.

Three innocent boys stand in a row.

A stopping clock brings shocked surprise.

Exposed for their sheepish childhood lies.

 

Groaning pipes warm the nest.

Bitches Brew disrupts our rest.

Angel’s hair, soft bed for our nativity.

Colourful illumination; wooden tranquility.

 

The porch swing; a safe place for

our thunderous summer days;

Sitting, laughing, loving.

Time unending.

 

Dining windows plugged for winter.

A blue linen sea spread for dinner.

Candles floating. Food enjoyed.

Events shared. The youngest annoyed.

 

Nocturnal antics, escapes well planned.

The CB radio dutifully manned.

Zeppelin and Floyd in the smallest room.

Crash sounds, death, always loom.

 

The connection, smokehouse, trains forbade.

Study space, a thesis made.

Tools in order, hard to borrow.

The loft above, rarely ventured,

Eaves with dead flies for spiders’ morrow.

 

A sturdy structure like a fort.

Caretakers for but a time.

History is bigger, and life is short.

This comforting vessel, all mine.

 

© 2016 Todd Landman. All rights reserved.