Jojoba Mansell Poems

One Summer eve
As swallows sang on wing
Beside Farm Pond
I cast my hopes into a timeless pool
...

I step through the door
and enter a world awash with life
the hedgerow drips with birdsong
bees throb through the lavender
...

I am no poet,
my mind has not the words,
to put my heart to paper.
I am no teacher,
...

Arguing over parking,
fighting in the shops.
Brawling in the nightclubs,
disrespecting cops.
...

Spoken to me by friends,
whispered by my family.
Offered by passing acquaintances,
given freely by strangers.
...

In my wake lay broken dreams,
and oceans of loved ones tears.
In my wake there is flaming hate,
which will smoulder on for years.
...

We're all made who we are,
by the roads that we have taken.
Whether brightly lit highways,
or dirt tracks long forsaken.
...

Weathered brow, a face constructed,
moulded, beaten into the visage of a man's.
Hammered by hooks, shaped by jabs, forged by crosses,
a story told in flesh, of bouts, of wins, of losses.
...

Virgin snow feathered-
the mountain of trash towering
a feast, a banquet.
...

A ringing bell calls-
a prison of books and maths
my teacher beckons.
...