“As night slowly draws a veil over dusk” my #poem #poetry

As night slowly draws a veil over dusk

The fading day dons layer upon layer

Of increasingly dark robes and shrouds and weeds of a funereal hue

Appropriate to the imminent demise that confronts the old figure now

Bent and moving with difficulty

Bowed down by both age and grief

Closer and closer it seems to draw to its companion the sea

Perhaps for comfort

Perhaps simply because it is weakened from the effort of dying

As from the blue sky of the day’s younger self

Grew so quickly the symptoms and indications

Of a life ebbing away

Not long left to live now

And then suddenly

The day’s end is reached and is mercifully quick

A handful of gulls attired in funeral rags

A flock of almost invisible black etchings

Against a now unlit sky

Pay their respects in silence

And vanish into the distant eternity

The twilight sky rolls out a thick drape that darkens the world

The colours a glorious triumph one breath ago

Now no longer

The day is dead the night is born

d.a.simpson ©

“A wide empty boulevard” my newest #poem

A wide empty boulevard flanked by trees

Opens up before the night walker

When all is quiet and the world is safely retired to bed

Tall straight backed trees stand proudly to attention

The clean lines of their dark trunks tall and ramrod straight

As they await inspection under a moonlit sky

Each one of a unique character and appearance

That complements and completes this army of wooden soldiers

A thin tree sways in the gentle breeze

Weary from the excesses of the previous night

When gale force winds pummeled and punched their way

Through this woody realm

While the others stare straight ahead

Afeared to turn and see what behoves their comrade

Lest they too be stricken

But ’tis merely a momentary lapse for the wiry trooper revives

The parade breathes a collective sigh of relief and order is resumed

A whisper rustles through the two long rows of branches

Ruffling leaves as it travels down the telegraph line

For the gossips are out in force tonight

They have surfaced to peddle their tidbits most juicy supreme

For the delectation of all those partial

To such delicacies disclosed under cover of dark

Overheard only by the tall dark handsome strong and silent trees

Along with the unseen audience of hundreds of insects and birds

And animals that shelter among the branches

From the elements and from predators that prowl the night scene

d.a.simpson ©

#poem #poetry “The kingdoms of the sea approach”

The kingdoms of the sea approach

They gather around the deep sapphire amphitheatre

A hush settles upon the noble assembly and the scene is set

The performers are fully rehearsed and ready

The great light in the sky illumines the stage

A smattering of clouds glides into position

Preparing to dim the light on cue or slide away

To allow a full beam of glowing sunshine onto the performance

The stage director’s final instructions conveyed to all

The ballet may commence

Into view glides a famed prima donna

Elegant and graceful in a glowing emerald costume

A sparkling and radiant heroine

The very stuff of the best romantic tales

The ballerina spreads wide her long slender sun bronzed arms

And bows a greeting to her audience

In a perfect plié at the front of the stage

Executes an exquisite series of pirouettes

Reaching the centre of the deep blue stage

Just as a soft zephyr gently blows

A flock of snowy white swans from all stage doors

That cover the entire deep blue scene

Surrounding the gold and emerald princess

A lush green island edged by golden beaches a many

Hosting an ocean of sparkling blue

Littered by scattered white foam all about of delicate whitecaps

Bobbing up and down as far as eye can see

Like white swans dancing upon a lake

A balletic performance delightful

A veritable enchanted Swan Lake one and all to enthrall

d.a.simpson ©

#poem #poetry “High in the lofty firmament”

High in the lofty rarefied firmament above

Otherworldly souls on the wing

Venturing across the skies

Gaze enthralled at the scene below

A grand giant fluffed up carpet of snowy white cloud

Rolled out over the entire flat circle of the earth

Broods and hovers over the pastoral idyll

Of a miniature picturesque patchwork

Of tiny fields and villages

It conceals this blessed utopia from the princes and dukes

That dwell amid gigantic skyscraping

Ice capped mountains overlooking

Vast glacial cities

Of monstrous tall gleaming ivory towers

Edging the very perimeter of the world

Guarding the borders

From the great unknowns of outer space

Protecting the peoples of the earth

Their animals and lands

From an age old rumoured imminent total destruction

By the hordes of brutal ice lords

And their myriad ferocious warriors fearless

For they have inhabited the kingdoms of the ice

Over millennia constant terror striking and dire dread of strife cultivating

Their own egos to pamper

The status quo to safeguard

And their ennui to assuage

At the bleak barren edge of the planet

d.a.simpson ©

#poem #poetry “The season’s task is done”

The season’s task is done

The land is stripped bare

The greens of summer long forgotten

The deep reds and golds of autumn have burned brightly

Before flickering away to nothing in the late year sun

And crumbling away dust to dust

Scatterings of bonfires shoot out their smokey fragrance

Along with the familiar comforts

Thoughts of warm welcoming hearths

Open home fires and toasting forks heavy with toasted delights

Charred remains of garden pruning now insubstantial grey flakes

Ashes to ashes

What is left following the clearing up

Swept away by gusts of cool air

The stage is empty now

It rests awhile

Emptying itself of the memories and echoes of the fading year

To prepare for the fresh players and their new drama

Of greys and blacks

Of long dark nights and short dark days

d.a.simpson ©

my recent #poem “the great iron beast”

The great iron beast bearing its cargo of voyagers from this world

Thrums its metallic refrain throughout the heavens

From its mighty tail it expels a long white streamer of a contrail

That vanishes into infinity eternal as it races across the kingdoms

Ruled over by the vast domed canopy of turquoise

That watches over the earth

Unseen by the beast and its passengers

The spirits of long ago deceased earthly ancestors of the travellers

Now race invisible chariots across their celestial territories

In hot pursuit of the great winged silver monster

Flying directly into their very safely guarded private world

While disregarding the usual formalities and courtesies

Expected of an alien journeyer

Now they come alongside in a flurry of righteous indignation

Determined to oust the unwelcome intruder

Trespassing upon their empyrial provinces

The easily outmatched interloper is quickly vanquished

Admits defeat, retreats and rapidly vanishes

No match for the speed of their army

Of the ghostly spectral horde riding mighty carriages

Powered by giant white stallions

Charging the breadth and length of the sky

Nor equal to the skill of their archers their spears and arrows

At their threats admits defeat and hastily retreats

Into the distant hazy horizons at the far reaches of the firmament

Disappearing into the safety of a principality of ice capped mountains

To safely depart the realm in one piece

Leaving the phantom empire to resume its customary tranquility d.a.simpson ©

my latest musings #poem #poetry “The deep golden sunbaked isle”

The deep golden sunbaked isle

Nestles contentedly in the embrace

Of the sparkling turquoise sea

The island sits low in the temperate waters

Basking in the glorious butter yellow sunlight

Poured out upon its shores

From high within the deep blue dome

Of its vast celestial guardian

In admiration of its steadfast balminess

Amid the never ending rumours of inclement weathers troublesome

Afflicting far distract lands

Mile upon mile of olive groves

Proudly display their trees

Whose trunks of legendary gnarled beauty

Stand exhibited in the perfect formation of the clean lines

Of a thousand well tended plantations

They bow low their glorious silvery green crowned heads

At the hest of mighty seaborne ocean breezes

While acres of huge open palmed hands of cacti

Some tendering floral gifts of deep apricot pink

Face the sky to offer up gifts of praise

Towards the magnificent azure heavens

To applaud the beauty of this veritable Eden

d.a.simpson ©