Mittens,blossom,I am not glass,child and nightmares
 

MITTENS AND KINDNESS

It catches my eye, a miniature hand of wool ,on the wall so carefully placed,

against the stone a brilliant white, soft and pure as the infant skin it graced.

It draws few casual glances and I know it was by a simple kindness found,

sad thoughts of tiny blue fingers prompted it’s rescue from frozen ground.

They’ll not notice it’s loss,it’s doubtful for a mitten they would pass again.

No it will soon be in the dirt once more, but a simple kindness will remain


A CHERRY BLOSSOM TREE



SERENE PERFUMED PEACE, STARK AMIDST MAN'S FRANTIC PACE,

WOKEN BY DEITY'S DECREE, THE DELICATE PETAL PINK LACE

OF A CHERRY BLOSSOM TREE.

SATURATING THE SENSES, ENTREATING ALL WHO RELISH SUNLIGHT

TO SLEEP NO MORE, GRASP LIFE AND LOVE, FEAR NOT COLD NIGHT

BUT VICTORIOUS SPRING ADORE.

NO EARTHLY ARTIST HAS SUCH PERFECTED FORMS EVER CREATED,

WITH INTRICATE COLOUR AND SHADE, IT LEAVES A HEART ELATED,

A WORLD OF WONDER CONVEYED.


About homeless people and how passers by look through them….as if they were glass.



I am not glass



Though I could touch your coat from this place where I sit,

beneath you on the street, amidst the debris,detritus and grit

and endless passing feet,

I am not here, glimpsed as ‘something’ on your vision’s edge,

‘something’ or other, you’ll from deep memory never dredge,

but always try to smother.

I shed tears thinking about what I once was and what I am now,

my silent tragic tale, as you pass with haste and furrowed brow,

no mercy to avail.

Though you are soon gone my misery is eternal, never ceases,

though you pass, and I’m left in fragmented shards and pieces,

I am not glass.



Child and nightmares

Hush my child, do not await faceless dark

with dread. Therein hides nothing more

than broken dreams we often have to shed.

Such wraiths escaped seek to visit only

mischief on you, trying to return and with

riotous resolve let unbridled fear ensue.

But they are without substance or form,

nothing, yours to control from blankets

warm. So as they from behind the curtains

peep, let these words in scolding tone

ring out, “be gone ! It’s time to sleep”

Nigel;

Again, your poems invite the reader to the visuals of;

....'a baby's blue mitten rescued from the frozen ground';.....

....'the Beauty of a Cherry Blossom Tree holding the promise of Spring';.....

.... 'a shattered life - past and present'....

....'a sleeping child trying to rid nightmares enabling sleep to return'.....

Thank you for sharing,

Gerry

Just Curious Gerry, did you read "Mittens and kindness" on my web site ?

I looked in at your web site some time ago. I don't recall previously reading Mittens and Kindness.

I, for the most part, am quite the novice when it comes to poetry. I seem to gravitate to your thread when you post your poems. I envision what I have read. Most of all I usually sense the surroundings. I have found it amazing how you began to write poetry.


Gerry

I should explain Gerry, the poem mentions a white mitten but you mentioned a blue mitten. But on my site I've got a picture of a blue mitten !
But I also mentioned blue fingers in the poem, hence the curiosity.

Best wishes

Nigel

Thanks for pointing this out. I evidentially being a novice ,need to focus more on the words instead of just the visuals and what I sense. You have inspired me .

Gerry