Poetry by Grandpa

September 9, 2007

Goodnight

This is probably my favoutite amongst all my poems, and was published once upon a time.

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Goodnight
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Sleep the sleep of mortals
In the slumberland of dreams
And open up the portals
To the land of Kings and Queens
Listen to the fairies laugh
And hear the harebells peel
Walk the soft and rambling path
Between the golden fields
Dream of what you want to be
And where you want to go
Of the beautiful green valley
And of mountains capped with snow
And when your wandering wondering soul
From slumber must return
And leave the wooded watering hole
As dawn's faint light doth burn
Come gently back with love in mind
For all your kith and kin
With care enough for all mankind
And harmony within.

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(C) David Loring

posted by grandpa_david @ Sep 9, 2007 | 2 comments | |

April Fool

April the 1st 1995 was an eventful day. In the morning my daughter was thrown from a racehorse during an interview for a job, and in the evening our car was stolen whilst we were at friends in Bristol. The following day an attempt was also made to steal the same friend’s motorcycle.

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April Fool

April came gently wrapped in shimmering haze
That did belie the tricks that it would play
And so we motored further south
Unsuspecting of the rampant April Fool.

Ah! Mortals durst you turn your back on this most cursed foe
And think that you'll survive
For you will surely perish at the tricksters fateful hand
And break the surface of life's limpid pool.

To horse, To horse and gallop frantic in the morning sun
And see the fields and hedges flashing by.
Ah! Cursed luck! The April Fool has charge
And you will tumble to the ground. Ungraceful pose.

But think you not the manic Fool by midday surely done,
For in these years of calumny and crime
The Trickster thrives and spreads his vile net
To taint the lives of people that he passes by.

Though heart of steel and made by man you were a friend of mine
Companion and support o'er many a mile
And now you're gone, wrested from my side at dead of night
By those abominable servants of the Fool.

Fickle fortune though you take a car you cannot take the man
And when the last of this poor day is gone
The Trickster surely will not have a grip upon my soul
For I am stronger than the April Fool and will survive.

Vile Jester are you such an evil and persistent malcontent
That you must try to influence another day
And send your servants out to steal the hard earned property of friends
Be off! No more!. Begone with you I say.

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(C) David Loring 1995

posted by grandpa_david @ Sep 9, 2007 | 1 comments | |

Hush

And here's another one!

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Hush, and tremble with excitement at this touch
That slips quietly through the fevered mind
And spreads it's powerful presence to the corners of the soul
To lie quiescent 'til some other point in time

Pause, and savour both the pain and pleasure of this state
As calm resumes and order fills the fractured brain.
And listen carefully to the inner voice of this perpetual dream
For surely traveller you will come this way again

Wonder, at this touching of two souls, for this is love
That marks the passing of a former stage
And brings you forward into that eternal peace of mind
Which knows no boundaries of body or of age.

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(C) David Loring

posted by grandpa_david @ Sep 9, 2007 | 1 comments | |

What powerful force?

Another of my poems, by request

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What powerful force is this that grasps my heart
And binds it in a vicelike grip of iron.
What rapturous torment tears my very soul apart
And punctures every hope that I rely on.

I cannot see, for I am surely blind
And deaf to all but love's eternal song.
I cannot feel for numbness strikes my mind
And leaves me weeping for the hearth where I belong.

Ah! Fickle fate you deal a cruel blow
And leave me gasping in the atmosphere of love.
So place me in an earthen rest below
I can no longer stand the pain above.

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(C) David Loring

posted by grandpa_david @ Sep 9, 2007 | 1 comments | |

July 8, 2007

The poem

We cannot walk our earthly path without a little pain,
But if we know and care inside, it can become our gain.
We cannot touch another's life and never cause some sorrow
Though can we in all truth be blamed? We know not of the morrow.

If all we do and all we say is offered from the heart
If things go wrong then be not sad, for we have done our part
We are not Gods that we can be correct in every action
But if we try to do our best, we get some satisfaction.

Although we feel the road we tread is often paved with guilt
It is upon these stepping stones a better life is built.
And even if we sometimes leave a trail of wounded pride
The most important thing is truth, and peace deep down inside

We cannot be a friend at all without some pain and hurt
Or gather a relationship and never gather dirt
We cannot find the path to love without some disappointment
Or run the race right to it's end without some discontent

So pilgrim on the way of life remember always this
That as we give so we will get, in sorrow and in bliss
But each and every little failing soon can be forgiven
If sincerity has guided us, and truth is in our living.

A Poem For A Friend
Page 1

posted by grandpa_david @ Jul 8, 2007 | 6 comments | |