Poems by Diny, Poet4Hire

I can't put any of the poems I've written for other people here as they are personal! But here are a couple of other poems that give a flavour of my diversity, in contrast to the rhyming ditties at the top of some of my website pages.


Unforgotten
1st prize, Writers Forum in 2002

In her beautiful head, under fiery hair
Behind electric eyes, in a random machine of sparks and pulses
Lie the distant memories of unattainable goals
Childhood fears and the heat of burning desires
And hard lessons learned indelibly etched in unremembered incidents.
That are best left that way.

Beneath her fiery hair, electric eyes spark of burning desires
Unattainable goals and fearful lessons learnt
Unremembered incidents indelibly etched on her beautiful face
The distant childhood memories that lie deep within
Still randomly pulse through waking dreams, a forgotten face, a lost scene.
Best left that way.

The fearful memory of childhood, the burning heat
The electric sparks, the unforgotten face and the incident remembered
Her eyes become distant, shrouded beneath her beautiful hair
In her delicate hand the machine fires randomly towards an attainable goal
The hard face from the waking dreams, indelibly etched in the feezing snow.
Best left that way.

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A Surprise Gift from my Parents

‘A CARAVAN!’ we gasped
‘Thank you.’ we rasped
What a lovely surprise!
Though I wish, first they’d asked.

It arrived and was parked
On the drive, in the dark
Neighbour’s curtains were twitching
With jealous remarks.

A trip with four friends
Beside us in tents
To a site quite close by
A trial-run, our intent.

But the pitch was a hillock
And we didn’t bring chocks
Then a freak gust of wind
Blew the front window off!

For a day it was dry, sunny and bright
The howling rain came on our subsequent night.
Our table-come-bed was a puzzle too far
When the power went out and we hadn’t a light.

We packed up and hitched, (as fast as one can)
With three mud-soaked children, our gaffer-taped van
But the short journey home at the end of our trial
Was really the point where our troubles began.

Soot-black and smoking; burnt to destruction
Nine miles of driving with the caravan brakes on!
Discs, shoes and chassis unyieldingly welded
INEXPERIENCE, was the mechanic’s deduction.

For the rest of the summer we seethed with frustration
Till the new chassis arrived from its German location
Too late for this year, to our neighbours bemusement
Resolute, we are planning next years camping vacation.

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School-run Mum

Nature rudely lifts the blinds and sets the seagulls squawking
For the blinding, brutal, waking of another frantic morning.
Pyjamas flying, fairy pink, replaced by moaning grey
"All aboard the MPV!" It's another school-run day.

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My Dining Room

Abandoned chasm with ambitions of improvement
Changing room walls from a fleeting fad
Now shun their daring scheme
And crave a soothing cream to cool their eczema-ridden faces

Groaning, paint-speckled boards
Disturbed from years of covered peace
Now play clunky chimes to shod feet and canine claws
Pattering through the ever recurring particles
Of previous owner's workmanship

Where gossamer blue swathes once flambouyantly swirled
Around corkscrew arms
Now the windows are dressed by a scampering of busy weavers
In gossamer grey
And patterns not of my choosing

The lightbulb hangs
A tiny wolf-moon 'gainst a tawny false sky

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Snail

At the bottom of my garden
On a bright and sunny day
I met a very friendly snail
Who said her name was May

She told that she had a dream
To travel far and wide
But the shell house that she carried
Made it such a sluggish ride

So I went and got a roller-skate
I happily would loan
So my snail friend and her bulky shell
Became a motorhome

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Wanted

A man, not a boy
Of good stature and employ
Kind hearted and wealthy
(Oops - I meant healthy!)

To drink good red wine
Find new places to dine
and to walk
and to talk

Must like music events
(though not ones with tents!)
Be willing to travel to see the world's sights
From the Chelsea Flower show in London to the Northern Lights

And further more, as a partner Clare
You'd be willing to share
Your home with a pet
In the long term, (not yet!)
And maybe....
a baby?

Please take careful note
of the requirements I wrote
If YOU fit the bill, then pick up the phone
You might be the one who is making his home
With a Westie (or Scottie)
And this cute little hottie

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Diny@Poet4Hire.co.uk


Poet4Hire © 2009 All Poetry, content and logos. If you want to use anything from this site, please email diny@poet4hire.co.uk. Website by Diny.