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Daily Archives: February 22, 2015

From a Railway Carriage – Famous poet- Robert Louis Stevenson YOUR FAVOURITE POEM-

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle,
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone for ever!
Robert Louis Stevenson

The Flying Dutchman – Promote Yourself

ghost ship

Unyielding in the pride of his defiance,
Afloat with none to serve or to command,
Lord of himself at last, and all by Science,
He seeks the Vanished Land.

Alone, by the one light of his one thought,
He steers to find the shore from which he came,
Fearless of in what coil he may be caught
On seas that have no name.

Into the night he sails, and after night
There is a dawning, thought there be no sun;
Wherefore, with nothing but himself in sight,
Unsighted, he sails on.

At last there is a lifting of the cloud
Between the flood before him and the sky;
And then–though he may curse the Power aloud
That has no power to die–

He steers himself away from what is haunted
By the old ghost of what has been before,–
Abandoning, as always, and undaunted,
One fog-walled island more.


I lay back in my deck chair and looked up into the sky,
I was fascinated by the clouds as they went on rolling by,
In my reverie I was transported to a land across the sea,
To a far off place I thought I would like to be.
In my heart I landed on a foreign shore,
A place where no man had ever been before,
Untouched by civilisation, revealed only to my eyes,
A very versatile place, in fact an earthly paradise.
Its verdant pastures spread as far as I could see,
It was no barren island set in a tempestuous sea,
It was a place of hope, peace and tranquillity,
A place where my spirit could roam forever free.
So far away from the problems of this life,
There would be no one there to cause me any strife,
With fresh water and enough food to keep me satisfied,
That this was an earthly paradise could not be denied.
But suddenly I realised that I would be on my own,
That the wonders of my dream would be known to me alone,
They would be no one there to share my happiness,
The only love I would feel would be the sun’s caress.
These thoughts began to fill my mind with doubts and fear,
I realised that I would not be happy there,
And so it was I quickly came to realise,
That for me this would be no paradise.
I awoke form my reverie and looked up into the sky,
I could still those clouds rolling by,
I knew this daydream could not come true for me,
I was pleased to return to the world of reality.
Ron Martin

Steve the seagull – Promote Yourself

Steve the seagull ventured from his nest one summer’s morn

High up on the rooftop where with his siblings he’d been born
Thought he’d had enough of being up there in the sun
Wondered at the down below where it looked a lot more fun
Flapped his fledgling wings a bit and hopped out into space
Plummeted immediately with a lack of seagull grace
Found himself in a small garden with strange smells and grass of green
Such a totally different world from the one ’til then he’d seen
Hopped around bewildered looking for a snack
But when he couldn’t find one thought he’d best be getting back
Flapped his wings, ran a bit and jumped up pretty high
Then rapidly discovered that he couldn’t actually fly
Time passed by, the sun went down, day turned into night
But Steve wasn’t all that bothered about his unexpected plight
Water in a bowl appeared so he could quench his thirst
And he’d found a few small worms to eat, though they tasted strange at first
Thirty-six hours later though and Steve was feeling pretty glum
Mum and Dad had made it clear ‘You’re on your own now, son’
He’d watched, forlorn as they had swooped up there in the blue
So close yet now so far away from the world he thought he knew
And then to make things even worse he was grabbed, stuffed in a crate
Taken from the garden wondering what would be his fate
Steve the seagull found himself on a beach with sand and sea
With lots of other seagulls full of life and flying free
And with another run a spread of wings he found that he could too
Rise up in the air and fly with the others in the blue
Steve the seagull swooped and soared, found his voice and cried aloud
A fledgling chick no more he was a Sussex seagull proud.
By Jem Croucher
(NB – the pic is one of mine so no credits are needed)

Steam Train Aroma – Promote Yourself

steam train 1

The Steam Train is a living , breathing, giant of a beast. This poem is written for all those who agree…?

Whiff of dragons breath and devils cough
Rocket on launchpad awaiting take- off
Hot coal and cinder mix
Wizards ancient explosive trick
All the bonfires I shall ever know
Chimney smoke rising visually slow
Ancient potion in steaming witches brew
Red hot embers shining like new
Over-cooked sponge cake
Viking long-ship burning on lake
Burnt elixir of forgotten cure
Once inhaled the nose cries out for more
Steam engine with exhaled smoke
Your aroma on which I would gladly choke
Ever present in my lungs
The pleasure passed on in knowing tongues
I delight in your passing scent
A price no man can evaluate
No time to hesitate or take in at your leisure
Evaporation leaves but scant memories to treasure.

By blackangelwings,


willow treexxxxxxxxxxx

Your touch,
like the gentle dip of the willow’s branch upon the water,
sends ripples through my being.
And I am stilled.
Your kiss,
like the landing of a winter snowflake down upon my flushed skin,
speaks to my worried mind.
And I am silenced.
Your breath,
like wind on the prairie rushing to some unknown place,
cleanses my soul.
And I am renewed.
I will quietly cease – should you ever leave me.
Stay close.
For your presence is all I require to survive the spin of this blue green orb.


Cedars – Promote Yourself


All Images Copyright © John Bullock 2013
All Rights Reserved

A Park. Bathed in Sunshine,
Symphonic Sakamoto caressing my ears
To the rhythm and tempo of the SLR.

Photographs for a calendar, friends of the park.
My lens stealing the beauty only nature,
Untouched, can provide.

The Bee on thistle imprisoned in pixels.
Oak leaf will now not wither.
Eternally mounted, my frames.

Saddened. Curious looks, parents worried what I capture.
Careful not to focus on their concerned.
Press Card at hand. Disclaimer to their fears.

Sun now shrouded in cloud ends Ryuichi in crescendo.
Last chords dissipate on leaf stirring breeze.
Time to rest.

In cool shade, Fountain Pen likewise records my day
As cigarette reduces to ash.

I sit

I think

I write

Days worked as thus are contentment
An Unquiet Mind muted
Brief Respite. 

Copyright © John Bullock, 2013

All Rights Reserved

John Bullock

Journalist, Editor & Writer

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