PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

he is just another pantomime

so far away from Galway Bay

to his fate he’ll now resign

he was not born on St Patrick's Day



his guests enjoyed delicious tea

until they declined  the celestial horizon

onto the age of the poet so now what has fate in store

here there is no precious discovery

he refrains from mentioning his personal association

besides the time of all Saints Day revisited on the Cape May shore

still he did have dirty hands from the small tree planted

the course of time and the curse of fate are always slanted

as she searches for a Claddagh buried in some cluttered drawer

the silver is dulled with the past like a lover who’s gone

he feels an operatic emotional intensity it was not just another love song

the water flows down with waves of tears a tumultuous roar



his back aches from the floor tiles laid

his head hurts from all of the vested memories he just replayed

framed by all the Irish doors that close so slowly

he keeps pressing his luck as his mouth organ continues to play lowly

listening for the most valuable and unique treasures

those notes are played in short shanty measures

he was entrusted with a number of her needy missions

though she lost those dreams of white picket visions

she says a kiss is just a kiss

and a sigh is just a sigh

and love is not love it is a thing that is hit or miss

but he is an optimist and still thinks that love is nigh



circumstances have been beyond his annals

she never shared his lofty dream

to be a Sea Captain that saves marine mammals

sailing to Santa Domingo while the Caribbean Sea and sun gleam