Do you have poems you wish to post,
About nature, love or even ghosts?
Well do so here,
And have no fear,
They will be read by most.

Greg's verse is a pretty good start -
to a Sudoku poetry cart.
We can here express -
about ghouls in Loch-Ness
to romance and affairs of the heart

I'm sure I have in my wee head
a little poem that no-one's read
but it won't budge, it won't come out
so maybe I'll just sit and pout!

Rayray your poem is very sweet
and talks of Nessie, what a treat!
ghouls in Loch Ness I've never seen
although down there I've often been!

Folks still do this sometimes today,
But poems flow less often,
Many flow form England's Rayray,
But several folks seem to have forgotten

That words in poems raise a smile,
They often get folks thinking,
When you post a poem, once in a while,
It keeps spirits high, not More...

A poetry page
Why, how clever
Hope others will post their endeavors
I can't say that mine
Is especially prime
It's maybe too short
Or too dry
But, here it is
By golly, gee whiz
At least I gave it a try!

For a bet of a couple of quid,
a young lad climbed a pylon near Lydd.
That proved rather rash,
for in one blinding flash,
he was wired to the National Grid

A lama and barmama from Toyama -
enacted an extra-ordinary drama.
A girl sat up in her bed
awakened from the dead -
they'd poured whiskey on the poor girl to enbalm 'er.

A new day is finally dawning
Couldn't sleep,now find myself yawning
Done the puzzles on-line
Now I haven't got time
To sleep until it is morning

Christmas Brings Memories

Remember how excited you got as a child?
Wondering what morning would bring....
In the morning would you find something wooly and wild?
Or would you find you had been brought anything?

Do you remember helping to decorate the tree,
With home-made More...

It's Christmas time,
When families get together,
For some moments quite sublime,
And hope for things to get better.

But things are rough this year,
And many folks are despairing,
For they look around and fear,
That the economy is not faring...

As well as it could More...

So who is this Obama, I just don't understand?
He is just another person, simply a man.
He's different, has features that many find grand,
And he offers a promise to his and our lands.

He will carry great burdens, and these his shoulders will bear.
But his words offer hope and More...

The Aussie Beach.

At the great Aussie beach, I see,
Wonderful things like the glittering white sand.
The salty sea with dolphins and fish of wonderful sizes,
And the big crowds that swim in the water.

At the beaches of Australia, I hear,
Great things like people talking More...

Spider monkey
Pot bellied
It has a long tail
Eats bananas
Rapidly moves

Mexico to Brazil it is found
On branches high in the trees
Nut and fruit it also eats
Kind and gentle when small
Each one is cute
Yet still hunted

written by Stephen
aged 8

The above two poems were written by my youngest son when he was at Primary School.

mmm must read (properly) before submitting..
missed a line in the Spider Monkey

Spider monkey
Pot bellied
It has a long tail
Dark brown hair
Eats bananas
Rapidly moves

Mexico to Brazil it is found
On branches high in the trees
Nut and fruit it also More...

The fragility of life
The fragility of culture
The fragility of the city
The fragility of privacy
The fragility of freedom
The fragility of existence
The fragility of the moment
The fragility of the individual
The fragility of body language
The fragility of More...

Nivi – A Silent Rapture, Rusticle of Pure White.

One tiny drop cascading down the breadth of silver twisted bark
creates the perfect snowflake icicle hanging by its web of cold
the rays of gold from sunlight movement catch the briefest of shadows
as a slight gust curls around the More...

Beautiful, André

Autumnalis Frondesco

Dappled light October drifts, as gentle husks of shadows sit.
A leaf, painted with soft hues of yesteryear, in sepia moments.
Captured by the moonlight serenades of whispered winter stars.
The curl of her timeless edge not withered, but of life as she turns More...

When I started reading this I said to myself:
"Without rhythm or rhyme -this isn't a poem - it's prose",
but after reading it right through, I concluded:
"Well I guess this is so good and moving it must be a poem and it so confirms 'poetic prose' as a worthy form of poetry. More...

By 'this' I was referring to Andres poem just before my previous comment - and I forgot to make that clear