three little words.

MTB: Counting to Three

thank you #dversepoterypub tonight for quite a challenge in writing to a new form for me on #nationalpoetryday.

Three little words.

Exam.
Life is no exam, live life, love,
Dance and sing, give your heart away,
Let your heart fly high like a dove,
Life is no exam, live life, love,
Do not fear to wear life’s love glove,
Your hearts one desire may well stray,
Life is no exam, live life, love,
Dance and sing, give your heart away.



Rocks.
Dance and sing, let yourself rock out,
Music uplifts, let it pluck your heartstrings.
Pleas never let there be a drought,
Dance and sing, let yourself rock out,
Prance, dance and throw yourself about,
Get music in, your being unslings,
Dance and sing, let yourself rock out,
Music uplifts, let it pluck your heartstrings.


Sketch.
Sketch this bitch, dancing all alone,
Heartbroken, but still living life,
Grief forced into learning, grown,
Sketch this bitch, dancing all alone,
A lust for life never blown,
Minds refusal to accept strife,
Sketch this bitch, dancing all alone,
Heartbroken, but still living life.

heart strings #quadrille209

dVerse — Quadrille Monday 209 — Plucking Strings

thanks lisa @ #dversepoetrypub for afun prompt.

Heart strings.

String up my heart,
Why don’t you,
I gave it freely.

Affection Swindler,
Centre of attention,
Heart strings plucked,
Swindled of affection.

Believed in you,
Pretty perfection,
Naivety my weakness,
Never love again.

I gave it freely
Why did I,
String up my heart.

© 30/09/2024 rog leach.

sea breeze

Tuesday Poetics: Endings

Bogna Regis?

Oh, which Bacon bap? Sausage bap?
Washed down with coffee, strong milky coffee.
Not a soul in sight, misty morning quiet,
Waiting, waiting, waiting. Chilled out.
A coach shimmers and rattles up the hill,
My seat awaits, Phoenix driving.
Bogna here I come, Bogna here we come
Sea side adventure calls.
Loving the excitement as old timers chatter,
Youngsters giggle, demanding are we there yet.

Seaside rendezvous with fish and chips.
Loving the anticipation of coastal vibes.
Bogna Regis, Bogna Regis you disappoint,
Filthy streets, empty hotels, run down vibes.
Sea breeze and pebble beach empty,
Empty of love, full of lost greatness.
Back on the coach, escaping the rotten Bogna,
The smell of the driver,
Was phoenix a dirty fat girl?

© 17/09/2024 rog leach

Future Harvest an extract

Quadrille #208 – Undead to the World

Wow Dora what a choice of words for the #quadrille here @ #dversepoetspub.

This will be added as a diary extract into the diary of a lead character in a novel I have been trying to write for over 30 years. it is the story of how the aids virus effects the vampire race.

Slayer.


From the tomb he walked,
Darkening my life of man.

Uncorking blood,
Like a fine wine,
With every meal.

Wooden stake,
Holy water,
My faith.
All I have in defence.

A defence against,
Vampire kind,
I am,
My destiny.


A slayer I must become.

© 16/09/2024 rog leach

The call of the sea!

By the Beautiful Sea . . . .

thank you lillian for a wonderfully prompt @ #dversepoetrypub this evening.

The call of the sea.

woosh

2 am and alone,

Woosh of a wave breaking,

The smell of the sea beckons.

Woosh.

One shoe tumbles onto the sand,

A second shoe joins its partner,

The last three years fall away,

With the held back tears.

Woosh.

Holy socks join worn out shows,

Folded trousers laid over shoes,

As the siren calls.

Woosh.

Torn shirt, screwed into ball,

Falls onto sand splattered in your blood.

Woosh.

Counting the waves till I paddle,

Counting the footsteps to the waves.

Counting the last of heartbeats.

Woosh.

I am sorry my love,

For how I left you,

With a knife in your heart.

Woosh.

My Salty tears joining,

With salty sea spry,

My salted heart swallowed by the sea.

SWOOSH.