It's  raining.
What  a  lovely  morning
after  all  that  sun.
The  Mallard  ducks  are  out.
I  can  breathe  again..
It  became  too  warm.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Bob is seventy four
And fighting cancer
Every day.

He's had us plant seeds
For four o'clocks
Twice now.

He told me confidentially
That he knows the flowers
Weren't here
In Boone's time

But his mother always
Had them

And maybe they are his legacy.

I found one
Of his wandering
Flowers in the garden bed
Yesterday.

And four more
In between
My sage and horseradish
Today

I dug them up
And carried them
Home.

I don't think
We could forget
Bob
Anytime soon.

.
After childhood sleep,
Of days into dawning,
Shucked of dusted clay,
Eyes set unto fawning,

Then, the rowing began.
Shy gentle waves lulling
As it does for Everyman
Who seeks loves' culling.

In a tempest of blue sky,
I was engulfed so plain,
That time was sore to eye,
All suitors never maidens.

One true love never came,
Nor to fly as birds teeming,
Now all is shipwreck of age,
Ah, but to drown dreaming.

What if the life can be ,
insanely dive into the bright blue ocean of love
for a day or two
feel s it like life time of never ending spring
everything is so bright and mild
promise to our breath
for us to be eternal , this moment be immortal
love is the morning dew ,
golden sand and evening sea breeze
love is the joy of peace , purest wonder in life
love is the only language it speaks

We are the unsung poets
who toil in day for the harvests
then write at night as the wick burns
in the dark slips of our meek turns

We are the unseen poets
who invisibly raise armours
swing pens as the dark evades the light
a strip to the core of the soul,our right

We are the trampled heroes
whose halos are out-shined by thunder
and tongues tied to a word twisted silence
Our heavenly seduction of a naked dance

I am the unsung poet
inspired by love and rhythm of life
transpired by the ounce of human experience
My eternal contract that only makes sense

If i die
Don't feel shy
Touch & hold
My shroud
I feel proud
Look at my face
Don't sit in a daze
Look into my eyes
I open my eyes
For a short while
I give you my last smile
And stare at you till my last breath
If i die
Talk to me
Read my poems
Enjoy my rhymes
If you miss me
Tear pages & wipe your tears
And caress my hair
Let me hear
I love you,whisper softly in my ear
If I die
Hold me in your arms
And Kiss my forehead
Stop ,wipe your tears shed
Don't worry''my lovely dear''
Please do remember me
In your daily prayer
Please don't scare
I will come back,I swear
Carry me off in coffin or hearse
But in my poetry
I'm always alive in verse

By shaffu