LEFT OVERS!
Cupboards still full of sweets and biscuits,
Head and stomach refusing any more wine and brandy,
Life back to normal after a fortnight feasting,
New year, new me not bloody likely,
Not until I step outside of polite society,
As one of its leftovers.
© rog leach 2019
Heading home.
#dversepoetrypub, #wordatthewharf, #quadrille.
Heading home, warm bed awaits,
Hibernation craved,
Zero till home.
Tired.
Two-mile snow 🌨 tunnel,
Beckons me through,
Muted world.
Hush.
Footprints lead the way, into darkness
Who’s’, I wonder?
Another adventurer?
Perhaps.
Swallowed by silent obscurity,
Calmness descends,
My footprints added,
Zero fear.
© 01/12/2025 rog leach
Thanks Melissa for a fun word for tonight’s quadrille @ #dversepoetrypub. I have also included hibernate from Decembers writing prompt for a monthly spoken word evening called word at the wharf. The pic was taken a few years back when I had to walk home in the snow.
Coaxed.
Noisy demands of rat-race,
No longer appeal to my,
Sense of belonging.
The sound of the sea 🌊.
Coaxing me to salty breeze.
Noisy demands vanquished,
By waves lapping over,
My toes, even on icy morn.
The sea shore coaxing,
Away from inevitable madness.
© 17/11/2025 rog leach
hello all . how are you all. tonight @ #dversepoets pub we are discussing being coaxed into something over being coursed into something. here is my 44 worded quadrille using the word coax.
Goodbye hobgoblin!
Going out with a bang was his plan,
But now he is oh so quiet.
Here lays the hobgoblin poet,
@ Glade valentine church yard,
My life now blank and peaceful,
Killed watching rainbows and missiles,
Which touched earth with beauty and destruction,
Indifferent to the suffering.
As war rages around him.
The Hobgoblin poet,
Without a bang he went out,
Died voice unheard.
But his written words,
Will be eternal,
Ready for future generations.
Who have learnt to get along.
Pivoting away from fear into self acceptance,
Leaving war to the history books.
No going out with a bang required.
© 09/11/2022 rog leach #word@thewharf.
© 22/11/2022 rog leach #the guild.
hello #dversepoetspub how are we this evening. tonight we are discussing pivotal moments in our lives. At the beginning of my journey into sharing my poetry I would hide behind a construct called the hobgoblin poet. when I grew in confidence with my sharing i decided to kill him off. this poem is how i did so standing forward to accept my own words.
Man up.
#manup
My mind whirls like van cough’s stars,
Tired, tired mind swirls and twirls,
Trying to get a grip,
Man up.
My emotions swirl around my heart,
Tired, tired heart breaking,
Trying to get a grip.
Man up.
No, I won’t man up,
Pain released.
© 04/11/2025 rog leach
perspective poetry 
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