All Poetry Copyright © Daniel Skidd 1997 - 2005 |
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< Poems
by D. Skidd >
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THE CRANE
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The elegant crane stood still waiting patiently still, waiting in the silt filled shallows of the Tolka river Rubber tyres, broken bicycles, abandoned prams and large striped red and white traffic cones were sticking up out of the clinging mud The rattle of the dart train as it passed overhead did not disturb the crane from it's purpose to catch a fish A, splish, a, splash a dash the crane had caught it's catch A flap of elegant wings took the crane above
all earthly things |
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SPRING
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I,
heard a blackbird singing sweetly this morning and I knew that it was the
birth of Spring
The clacking of the magpies will soon be a forgotten thing Brilliant rows of daffodils nod their heads gently in the warmer softer winds The farmer steps out more sprightly now this season has begun. Lambs jump friskily in the fields full of gentle fun Small birds are flitting madly between bush and hedge and tree It will not be long before a nest or two or three Dad pushes out the lawn mower to cut the lush green grass The cats roll in the sunshine they know that winters past Boys heads are turning as girls wear brighter clothes. Cats and dogs start straying as the love scent hits their nose People sit in parks until the evening goes,
housewives polish windows until they glow and glow |
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WINTER
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Weak
sunlight dancing lightly over soft driven snow
Children blowing heavily through reddening noses The moon acquires halos as it waxes and wanes. The crackle of ice as it melts in the drains Cars crunch over frost on slippery streets Steam seems to come out of people as they talk in the streets Birds nests abandoned in skeletal trees people rapped up from the head to below knee Children throwing snowballs with unbounded glee Old folk looking forward to their nice cup
of tea |
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SEASIDE
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The
rustle of the new mown hay as the summer wind swept gently along its way
The singing of larks from their heights at noonday The crying of sea birds as they swoop and they soar Keen eyes from the sky's as they search out below searching for scraps from burgers to baps Boys are skimming stones that go plip plop in the sea The shrill cry of kids as they crash through the shallows with buckets and spades and all kind of paddles They jump scream and shout as they splash water about Beach ball are dancing away in the breeze of the day from bare foot to the hand the sound they make feels grand, when they bounce of the beach they're quite elusive to reach The hole in the sand that some children had dug is now filling with water going glug glug glug glug The fat man lies snug in a rug under the shade his beach brolly has made Cars are lined up in shining rows they reflect sky and sea and our company The sun as it sinks in an orange red glow seems a signal to all to pack up and go. Wearily homewards we go , happily because
we know we've come to the end of a perfect day when we've all had our
fun and play. |
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MARCH WINDS
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The
strong winds will blow in March don't you know
They bring rain and hail and even some snow as they sweep over houses in wailing rushes they cause windows to creak and floorboards to squeak. Some gates are swinging wildly and playing odd tunes, overhead cables are whining your songs Dustbin lids and tin cans come clattering along quickly to join this unusual choir as the wind grows in pitch getting higher and higher Pedestrians are walking in peculiar ways , cyclists are putting strains on pedals and chains trying to get home before you pelt them with rains All clothes are now flapping on weak and on strong, washing lines snapping as you whistle on. People are starting to loose their grip brollies and canes are starting to slip, some have even taken to flight much to the youngsters sheer delight Hats are being whipped off several heads to scatter down roads like mad jumping toads As you sweep up the mountains and howl down the glens blowing rubbish before you from pond and from fen You frighten all animals asleep in their stables as you rattle all doors and swish off end gables At night clouds seem to skim past the moons face like giant pillow cases in a crazy race The trees in the forest seem to be paying you homage as they bow and they sway in each gust you send there way You whip up the seas causing breakers to race and all the boats to start bobbing as they slow down in pace We're suddenly surprised when you go as quickly as you came Perhaps you've got tired of playing your
game |
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WINTERS MORN
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It's a cold wintry morn the sun has a pale silvery hue. It pierces my window panes causing the ice crystals to reflect a myriad display of colours of light silver streaked blues Crows croak on the white stubble of frozen grass, birds beaks are crunching through this upper frozen mass seeking out food from beneath the less hardened earth below Snails are deep in shelter under their frost covered shell like igloos. A plastic bag gently unfolds as the chill begins to slip and moisture starts to slowly drip Clouds of steam starts to rise from the queuing buses, lorries and cars Spiders webs stand out starkly like strings
of fine white pearls |
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BAD BEACH
DAY iN TORREMOLiNOS
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The sea roared in with a deafening booming sound lifting from its angry giant waves that sent rivulets of criss-crossing sea snaking speedily up the beach like an army of hissing snakes Plastic beach furniture was snatched at random by this tumult and were pulled back quickly into the boiling surf Some palm trees with their little surrounding turf were uprooted from the sucking wet sand and were slammed in a whirling mass into the fearsome foam Fishes were flipped up and out and were left open mouthed gasping and bodies rasping the sharp shingle at waters edge Sometimes they were rescued by a returning rush of sea ending their misery Tourists were staring with their mouths agape wondering if their holiday choice was a bad mistake |
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NIGHTSCAPE
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The old owl perched high perfectly still in the willow tree Its branches and leaves whispered their timeless secret songs to the gentle breeze that floated softly through the trees The owl sighted a small glow of infra red and launched out on its near silent deathly flight. The overhead moon seemed to be smiling down on this frightening sight and its slanting shafts of light cut through the trees occasionally briefly catching the owls outline like a spot lit star. The wood mouse knew to late of its disastrous fate as a large talon claw crushed its tiny jaw leaving no room for a scream. Small sprinkles of blood spread for a short distance across the forest floor and insects rushed quickly to sup this precious midnight cup The wraith like figure of a fox appeared scenting the midnight air hoping for an abandoned kill but disappointed left in dispair. The owl returned with a flutter landing on the willow tree still clutching its late night supper. A passing tom cat was disturbed by this slight commotion while on its nightly loving devotion. It thought to itself, one day the old owl will sleep to long in that willow tree and what will be will be |
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THE TOLKA
(Viking for two women)
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O Soft River I see you gently meeting the incoming tide Mingling in its salty mass I see you slowly let it pass Wiping out your tracks and numerous records, from leaping frogs to playful otters that crossed through your gentle flow. It's the end of your path as you know it, what shall you do when you go Whence you came. Running through all seas with the greatest of ease Rising to the skies, again before your creators eyes Decending again to be of use to all women and men You know it must end one day my watery friend What of the time when Vikings laid their flaxen heads down on your soft River banks Their beautiful longboats slipping gracefully upon your smooth surface like a Host of golden swans They stopped to name the town of the wide opening "Baile Atha Cliath" You have always been its extended tongue O soft one |
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WATCHING
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Watching the waves encroaching remorselessly on the ever shortening shore line The hissing in the shallows of various pebbles and shells intermarrying in rolling balls through the effervescent foam The sight of moonlight shimmering accross the deeper Water as the surging tide moves landwards with a silent menacing force The war between land and sea has gone on for aeons both worthy foes each interchanging roles beneath the smiling moon, whom is responsible in part for many ensuing battles Nations and civilizations have disappeared before these surging tides and only whispers of their existence appear from time to time When a surge in Neptune's locker reveals a secret from the distant past Wading birds flock into Bull islands marshlands, sometimes their underbellies are lit up by a section of moonlit sea as they glide into land Some honking as if pleased with their successful landing, like a sailor greeting friends after returning safely from a long voyage |
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NIGHT LAKE
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Stars
reflect on the surface of the moonlit lake Its surface ripples in places under the soft touch of a midnight wind A family of swans glide serenely by
in brilliant Lapping waters seem to murmur and whisper An owl haunts the nearby woods with
its eerie cry Time seems to quicken as the first
rays of the rising A cascade of birdsong heralds the dawn of a new day |
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