Until they think warm days will never cease.- John Keats, "To Autumn" Like the faint semi-tragic scent of tea olive, the epitome of ephemera, the butterfly flits among lantana and disappears.   Hummingbirds hover; barred clouds bloom. The retreating sun draws in its long shadows, Then slowly dims the lights.   Bravo! Encore! Encore! Four... Continue Reading →

He walked onto the harbor beach at sunset, planting a small net on a pole like a guidon, and setting soiled cloth bags around it. Alone on the beach he began his dance. Mismatched clothes flapping, he swayed, then paced, then crouched to pat the sand into a crescent, then stepped back and back, dug... Continue Reading →

Please, somebody give me a mountain  and I'll give you me. Somebody give me a tide, lapping a small, rough shore that no-one else wants, like a pebble-fed cat. Somebody give me a mountain... a place I can slant, live at an angle, watch the soft underbelly of the stars shattering over lichen-lush rocks. Just... Continue Reading →

I walked my anxiety  into the woods and told it,  the trees were not  shadowed in mind’s darkness;  but nature’s.  The negative voices  were not going to stop  this walk in the woods, where the path lay  to an ending filled  with next day’s surprises  of acceptance and words,  that mattered. For inside the woods:... Continue Reading →

sometimes the words jump around and the letters are backwards when I read out loud I try to keep up with the moving words as though they’re on a treadmill but my pace has to match its speed immaculately  but usually I fall too fast or too slow and even if it’s just right my... Continue Reading →

FACTS: You and I, three minutes old, Your dark expression jeers At me as though set in a trance. You sniff me out, You peck at my soul You mock my skin, With your piercing eyes.   My innocence insists back ever so quietly While you accuse me of trying to filch That ratty old... Continue Reading →

I hold you both in the shadow of a bright crescent, though you have passed through fire and dust.  Once we were three hearts, the night gathered us,  and our fingers touched. One taken from me in blood and a haze of sleep; and now, everything from words, from breath, from our forgotten clay. I empty... Continue Reading →

These memories are a pavement Going on uninterrupted for miles, Wet with the rain, beautiful from Afar and slippery when trodden. They are where I slip and fall each Night and where I awaken each Morning, getting myself up and Continuing to walk this sidewalk That goes on and on yet leads me Nowhere but... Continue Reading →

They could feel the light diminishing as they slid closer to each other and when they were engulfed in darkness they knew that they had finally cut loose. Photo by Alex Kozlov on Pexels.com About the Poet:John D Robinson is a UK poet: hundreds of his poems have appeared in print and online: he has... Continue Reading →