Where Is the Art?

‘Oh, poet dear, where did you find your art?’ But I can’t say I ever looked for it Should I have lost it before I could start To write words in lines that may rhyme a bit This writing in verse is often a curse Sometimes restricting what I want to say To rhyme or … Continue reading Where Is the Art?

The Date

At a quarter past seven, I must dash For the Appleby’s expect me at eight A flick of oil to my silver moustache For Miss Emma-Jane I mustn’t be late A brisk evening walk buffered by the west And yesterday’s news flies across the street As icy blasts cut through my Sunday best Must hurry … Continue reading The Date

NaPoMo 13: To a Friend

Today we grieve your leaving, friend As mourners walk on by No tears we cry as it’s not the end As our memories fly We lived without the reasons why The paths of life should send Us here, always seeking the sky As friends, we’ll never end © JG Farmer 2017 Form: Alternating Quatrains

Corvine 2

A tapping sound against the empty pane of glass; a writer’s friend has come to call The winter’s winds have left his food beyond his reach today. So, have my lunch my friend On darkened wings, I feel my lover’s kiss embrace my thoughts, my pen keeps writing on until no words remain. A hurried … Continue reading Corvine 2