Poem #115

The snow is covering the hills in serenity
and the lost souls are leaving footprints in it.

They aren’t doing it to ruin the white peace,
they are doing it because they don’t want to
be forgotten. If they get more lost they hope
that someone will follow the prints and find them.

Is there a home waiting for them tonight?
A fire to keep them warm, another person to
warm their soul or are they just wandering around,
looking for something to keep them going tonight.

Maybe it will be a cigarette donated by a stranger
or the last drop of wine from the bottom of the cup.

The snowflakes are twisting and turning, making
love to the wind. Maybe that is the entertainment
the lost souls need tonight, let’s just hope it doesn’t
freeze them to the core, let’s hope they find a warm light.

Winter princess

Sound the trumpets, and ring the bells
The winter princess stands in public view
Dressed in red white and green and
Casting snowflakes across the sky
Church bells chime
Cold but crisp
Waking up every
Willo the wisp
Partridge sits in the pear tree
Watching the collie birds circle with glee
Footprints frosty delivering a gift
Give someone who’s little a very big lift
For as belles of the ball sing out with a cheer
Raising aloft their wine or their beer
Little ones sleep in their beds for a while
As someone leaves something under tree … raising smiles
As morning awakes and they’ve eaten their fare
They open their pressies…a doll or a bear
Then with new friends they follow foot prints for a while
While mum and dad watch on with a great big smile
I’m a poet who hails from Salford , England.  Home to James Joule , LS Lowry and Humphrey Booth – and plenty of other scientists and artists.  These great men have provided me with lots of inspiration in my writing.  I also get inspiration from the countries i visit and events i volunteer at…currently part of the volunteer squad of the Imperial War Museum (North) where i help out in the galleries….you can find me at inkdrops.blog or Allpoetry.com/InkdropK
If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

Poem #73

On that cold winter night her breath
resembled smoke coming out of her
mouth and it got you to a new level of
feeling because it reminded you of the
night she smoked a cigarette after
burning up between your fingers.

It was all experienced before but it all
felt so new. Like a boy you fell under
the spell of her deep blue eyes. In a
single breath, a glance, a smile you
realized you’ve loved her all this time.

You offered her a cigarette and she
told you she had quit and that’s when
the truth hit. Those nights you claimed
her yours were long gone. Those lips
you’d bite in between kisses were
now completely off limits.

And you wanted to ask her to come
over to your place for coffee and you
wanted to give her a hug and you
wanted to ask how she’s been doing
but you were scared she’ll tell you
there’s some other guy.

So you just stood there mesmerized
and got the answer to the question you
didn’t even knew you wanted to ask.
That beauty walking in the night was
the best thing you ever had. One more
night with here would mean kissing
happiness goodbye because she
would disappear before dawn.

Like a cigarette

Like a cigarette

Darling you’re like this fourth
glass of wine and cigarette between my fingers
I just keep on coming back to you
because you’re in my blood system.

I inhale your lust and exhale
your desire while your two days old
beard is caressing my cheek. You
linger between my lips long after you’re gone.

I drink your words like this red wine
and I can never get enough.
You get me drunk with your touch.
When ever I pour me another one
I want you by my side.

Whenever I light up another one
I can feel your presence and I crave
your lips on mine. If only I could
have you in the nearest shop like a
fresh pack I wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Some winter nights I stay up and look
at the sky possessed by the wish to see you
and hold you between my fingers tight. Then
I would just bring you to my lips and you’d be mine.

I’m empting this bottle and this pack and
I’m realizing you’re not around.
Like this cigarette, you are my vice and even though
you poisoned me you made me feel alive.

Like a cigarette I burned out. Your arrival
will be the fire – come here and light me up.

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