A Blast From The Past

Pardon the pun in the title, but this is a poem written after Hurricane Katrina wreaked so much havoc on New Orleans, a few years ago now. I was reminded of it today when I read a poem by my friend Monna Ellithorpe, also about a hurricane saying much the same things but in a very different style. As I have never included it this blog, I take this opportunity to address that now.

It was actually intended as a song - a folksy type of song - but after I had written the lyrics I found it difficult to actually sing them; or rather to put a tune to them. After some time trying I decided it should be a poem. The very first poem I had written - after years of writing song lyrics ! Hope you enjoy reading it

The Wind

The Wind sighed,

and the world turned.

The Wind whispered, 

But no one heard.

The Wind wondered, 

But no answer came.

The Wind cried, please

But few took heed.

The Wind shrieked, 

But the suffering had started.

The Wind warned us all,

But who had noticed.

And the world turned.

The Wind howled, 

But was it now too late

The Wind became man's enemy,

And they asked, each one,

Why didn?t we listen

Why didn' we care

Why didn't we do enough

We could have helped

And the world turned.

The Wind tore through

The remaining years.

Why didn't we listen

And the world turned,

In upon itself

If you should want to read more of mu early work, it is available to read or for free download on SCRIBD, Poems And Endings And Lost Loves 

I'm on a roll

I hate to say it but with a second new poem so quickly since the last, could I be on a roll? This is another in response to a prompt on the same website by as the last post by my friend Monna Ellithorpe.

Not quite decided on a title yet and it is still in a rough, unedited form but I am recording it here because I am so happy to be creating again.

The Mystery Parcel

One damp and dismal morning last week

I answered a knock on the door

The postie was waiting with a parcel for me

Unexpected, exotically packaged but more ...

It did not have a full address, 

He'd done well to deliver this mail

The name was clear, it was for me alright

But this delivery could well have failed.

I gratefully took it from his hands

With heartfelt thanks and praise,

And carried it carefully to my den

Prepared to free my prize, to be amazed.

I really had no inkling, no idea at all

Of who may have sent this parcel

Addressed with such a tenebrous remit

It may never have reached me at all.

So I set about the task required, 

Not knowing what I would find.

Soon I held a simple box, devoid of any note,

I raised the lid and thereI found confined

A bundle of vintage photographs

Dog-eared and monochrome

Displaying almost familiar faces

Fondly remembered from back home

A treasure chest of memories

A prize I tightly grasped

But who and why and where

Amongst the questions yet to ask.

A few places where change is needed but it's a poem and I want to shout it out loud. Hope you read and enjoy.