ivor or ivor.e hogg
Ex airman Ex policemam ex social worker etc
rather varied career pattern
Married second time around to a poetess artist and musician
two duugthers one son two step sons 10
grandchildren between us spread all over the globe
Interests reading and writing poetry Reading sci fi and fantasy.Comparitive religion Re incarnation and Psi in general
Retired and busier than I ... more »
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ivor or ivor.e hogg Poems
A fading Dream
The purple gloom of midnight hides all outward signs of the decay. A sense of grandeur still abides. That’s absent by the light of day.
A Gentlemans view
I hold the door open for you a simple act of courtesy This any gentleman would do. To you I act insultingly.
Any fool can be a father. It takes a man to be a Dad. Though some fellows would much rather play the field as Jack the Lad.
A Dog's Tale for M' lady Ernestine
A dog’s tale A small dog shows his loyalty
A Cynics view a rant
Religion is about control. Although they claim to save your soul. The truth is it’s a power game the priests of all creeds are the same.
The gaudy glow of neon lights dispels the darkness of the nights on city streets.
Abormality? I suffer from a strange disease. A most peculiar malady,
November month of fog and mists. The early mornings have a bite the silver grass by Jack Frost kissed in the dark hours of the night.
I can recall nothing at all. My mind is like a pristine page, it’s rather sad but comical I do not know my name or age.
Am I prejudiced?
I am a slave to poetry. I do not wish to be set free a willing prisoner happily.
Naturally for M lady Marci
At midnight still the roses bloom Their colours pale beneath the moon Scenting the air with rich perfume while nightingales sing their sweet tune.
A matterof belief
Bob Adamson an ordinary guy, woke suddenly one night and wondered why. He saw or thought he saw within his room a radiant figure lighting up the gloom.
A voice crying in the wilderness
Revealed to me exclusively. Its natures plan to erase man. No one accepts this prophecy. They don’t believe that nature can.
A question of priorities
A portal closes then you see
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
A fading Dream
The purple gloom of midnight hides
all outward signs of the decay.
A sense of grandeur still abides.
That’s absent by the light of day.
Stray silver moonbeams softly show
to best advantage what remains
of elegance from long ago
but very tactfully refrain,
From highlighting faults and flaws,
so obvious in the bright sunlight.
The broken panes and sagging doors
are kindly hidden by the night..
The formal gardens overgrown.
They have been long deprived of care,
dividing walls just heaps of stone.
Show through the brambles here and...