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Cedars – Promote Yourself

 cedarsxxxxxxxxxx

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

john.bullock@live.co.uk

http://about.me/john_bullock17
http://johnbullock.wordpress.com
http://unquietmindpoetry.wordpress.com
https://www.facebook.com/john.bullock17
https://twitter.com/John_Bullock17

The Window – Promote Yourself

 

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I can feel the cold breeze,
As I open the window to reminisce.
Remembering everything we had together
And I just can’t accept that you are now in peace.

You always let me pass through that window.
You said I am a child whom should know
That it is better to rain than to snow,
But the drizzle in my heart will never go.

Being strong is what you taught me
Until I realized that it is not the real me
I am weak; I can’t even try to skii.
I just tried harder for you to see.

I didn’t imagine what my life could be
Without you beside me.
Now I am here crying in front of the tree
Because I know I can’t have you back for free.

Everyday I wish to be with you
Chatting, laughing and playing are what we used to do.
In my heart there is always you,
But now all I can say is Adieu.

Iana Shirin

August showers


August showers

Watering the flowers

No sun in sight

Staying in tonight,

People rushing

To miss the raindrops

Staying longer in the shops

Cold feet and hands

Where people stand

Waiting for the rain to ease,

Catching colds in the August breeze

August showers

So much power

Flooding to come

It’s raining again,

Let’s run

Gillian Sims

The cottage

 

 

I came across a cottage,

That stood amongst some trees,

And smoke from the chimney,

Was being fanned by a gentle breeze.

 

The cottage fire was burning,

You could see it through the door,

The sweet smell of burning logs,

From the stack upon the floor.

 

The crackle from the fire,

It looked so very warm,

The old man tends his garden,

In clothes all ripped and torn.

 

In a rocking chair a sweet old lady sits,

With hair of silver gray,

Sunrays peeping through the trees

On this summer’s day.

 

The garden decked with flowers,

With primroses round my feet,

The birds they were singing,

They sang so very sweet.

 

The smell of new made bread,

That carried on the breeze,

Little animals playing in the sun,

As they dart amongst the trees.

 

A scarecrow in the field stands,

To frighten away the birds,

It was a picture that I saw,

So I put it into words.

Malcolm Bradshaw

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