Love Poem 3 or The Sublimated Gardner
LOVE POEM 3
Or The Sublimated Gardner
When planting Viola today
Each made me think of you
Waiting for spring to bud
And open to my touch
Those velvet leaves of lucent shade
As your cheeks when they blush
Poached egg flowers made me smile
As I thought of your reaction
To that metaphor
Though the flowers are lovely as
Tritely named Forget-me-nots
But
Flaming Katie
Sexy Lexie
Love-in-in-a-mist or
Devil-in-a-bush
Will you walk with me in my garden?
poem by Thomas Golding
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The Fashion Show
THE FASHION SHOW
To conclude our show we leave you with a dream
For every woman, place and time
To run away if only in the mind
To seek the moment when their lives
Were different from clichéd here and now
Remembering childhood’s fantasy and wonder
Looking forward to the woman you are now
One day a woman stood in that place
And the child became a stranger
Yet what woman loses visions of that dream
It waits recall to hold it’s elder sister close
To allow herself become that woman child.
poem by Thomas Golding
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Truth Is
Truth is the Magpie’s morning call
Answering the Tui from the bush
The sound of wind in yellowed grass
Shaking leaves from autumn’s trees
Truth is a dropp of wine
Running down an empty glass
Rich red and scented as
That love I once held dear
Truth in a lover’s gentle touch
That calls response from body/mind.
Truth is a pillowed breast
Unconditional share of being
Hidden places of the dark
Glowing softly within.
Truth is a young child’s smile
Lifting arms in simple trust
In the world as they see their place
Warmth, food and love
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Golding
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Fitness Centre
Mirror mirror on the wall
Who is least fit of all?
Watch that muscle straining by
Chasing rainbows in the sky
Women walking on the treadmill
Going nowhere how dreadful
Take your home up on your back
Pound along a mountain track
Going somewhere for your trouble
Other than this fitness bubble
Paying out great lumps of money
Just to shrink a bulging tummy
Get on your bikes and pedal
On the road, be a devil
Forget those captive trikes
Tell the gym to take a hike
Sweat the lard off on a hill
Give yourselves a budget thrill
Soon your rumps will fit the seat
And your friends think it's neat
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Golding
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Maria's Lullaby
An extract from a poem written for my grandchildren to Brahms Lullaby
Sleep; little mice sleep
Mother will watch over you
Shut your eyes and don't peek
Tomorrow the skies will be blue
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
No harm will come whilst I am here
The sun has gone down by the peak
When the day dawns it will appear
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
Your father is watching the house
That no owl or cat dares to seek
Harm to creatures or mouse
Sleep; little mice sleep.
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Golding
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This House Is Not A Home
Policemen kindly stay away
Unless of course you wish to pay.
Hey ho mother runs a knocking shop.
The girls are bravely standing to
But not long for the likes of you.
Hey ho mother runs a house.
Horizontal is the game
But the cost may cause you strain
Hey ho mother makes the rules.
Politician lawyer priest
True the nature of the beast.
Hey ho mother runs them through.
They scorn your hide but not your money
And still you come like flies to honey.
Hey ho mother knows the score.
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Golding
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