Paul Gerard Reed
Biography of Paul Gerard Reed
All my poems since 2010 are on poemsforlifebypaul.blogspot.com.
I wrote 365 poems between October 2010 and 2011.
I would like to write over 1,000 poems but as I have found numerical challenges usually reduce the quality (if there was any to begin with) .
Inspirations - all poets with a feeling for nature and 'insignificant' things that are actually significant.
Motivations - to express emotions, make people laugh or otherwise connect with the writing emotionally.
Paul Gerard Reed Poems
Time has grown over these plots Of broken down plinths And ragged headstones With their faded engraving
Wish The Day Away
The fingers of the clock Would not move around the face Time seemed to be endless As we gazed out into space
I leave to you everything…. The sunny days When joy runs through your veins; The view from the mountain top
The Pit Pony
I found out with sadness about your plight Your life lived in perpetual night An underground stable was where you roomed An innocent life entombed
The Day Is Nearly Done
The day is nearly done Unblemished by the works of human hand With gentle push, the sun slips ever lower Beneath horizons, below hilltops, behind houses,
Tyne Valley Mist
The ground was slumbering Beneath your chilly wrapping Absorbing the sun's bounty Fiery energy sapping;
We are sitting on the ridge Looking down at our youth Which lies forlorn in the valley; We have burnt each bridge
Your Time Is Yet To Come
In a sudden moment A calmness descends And the war with Winter is assuaged, The waves cease to crash
It's got Tower Bridge And it's got Big Ben It's got underground trains That run now and then
Laughter is the best medicine they say Worth more than any wealth Laughter is a wonderful tonic Not available on the National Health
Drizzle spattered the dark Tyne Running its evening course between waterside lights Jetties and ferry landings The last place of safety before the vast North Sea
A March Morning
Everything is ready As I take the morning air Everything is in front of me As Spring begins it’s repair
Leave Sorrow Behind
We wait until all things are still And a glorious and guidng hand settles gently We stand becalmed in the glow of the moment That we have waited for so fervently
As The Morning Breaks
As the morning breaks We go our separate ways But always think of each other; We do our own things
The Home Of Cricket
The grass is worn in two distinct places
At opposite ends of the lawn
Where we stand and take guard
Where cricketing dreams were born;
This little patch of ground is Lord's in our minds
But we only encourage (we do not ‘sledge')
The pavilion is the back door to the kitchen
The boundary rope the hedge;