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Best Poems Written by Shadow Hamilton

Below are the all-time best Shadow Hamilton poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Wind

When it left the Arctic it was as a wild angry wind
that stormed its way across the ice bound Arctic ocean.
Blowing the snow clad icebergs and whipping up the ocean.
As it crossed Alaska and into Canada it had gentled
now it played games with leaves and softly kissed flowers.

Gaily it soared over the Rockies and tugged goats beards 
causing them to shake their heads and stamp their feet.
In Playful mood it swept on hugging the coast awhile
then veering inland, it travels the plains and grows in strength
turning into a raging tornado causing havoc as it passes.

Moving ever southward it basks in now warm sunshine
and skips over the gulf of Mexico filling yachts sails.
Deep down in South America it turns into a wild fury that
uproots trees snapping them in half like matchsticks,
Then onward once more dancing past the Falkland islands.

Its destiny is now in sight and with triumphant roar
it rushes on over the Antarctic ocean and slides up
the icy barrier then screams its way across the tundra
yet slowly it loses its power and as it reaches the incline
this moody wind fades away until with final breath it dies.

Details | Shadow Hamilton Poem

Equinox

As the weather softly turns
Beckoning in the Equinox
Clusters of colourful bulbs
Dance and sway in the breeze
Eagles swoop up on thermals
Flying high until they are specks
Golden feathers gleaming amid
Heather glowing white on the hills
Indigo skies with puffy clouds
Jutting into various shapes
Kale drift by lazily snapping flies
Luscious grasses adorn the meadows
Mushrooms appear nestled under trees
Nightingales sweetly sing in Spring
Osprey dive deep for fish
Plunging in time and again
Quaint old fashioned flowers 
Radiant with rainbow colours
Spread rampant in the beds
Tulips dip and bow in greeting
Under the hosta's a dormouse lives
Velvet nose twitching the air
Watching out for birds of prey
Xanado bathed in sunshine highlights
Yellow buttercups which coat the ground as 
Zenith of Spring soon now will fade away.

Details | Shadow Hamilton Poem

Loneliness

Loneliness was losing you ten years ago
I now wake up each day your side empty
I miss the cuddles and early morning sex
the endless hours without your smile.

No-one to share special moments with.
At night once the door shuts others out and
the long hours creep by each one darker
It is now I again feel the isolation.

No-one to share a joke or smile with,
in others minds you are now forgotten 
yet for me it is still like yesterday. 
Endless hours stretching out, on and on.

No-one to hold me when I weep in despair
or to wipe away the tears and comfort me. 
I smile when people visit, offer some tea
but deep inside the tears never stop.

People tell me its time to forget,
well that would mean cutting out my heart.
For without you I am less than nothing
It is all the memories that comfort me.

The joyous times we together shared
and the life we lived together harmoniously.
My heart still belongs to you, none measure up
how could they? You and you alone are my soul.

So resigned I live with loneliness
fill my days with things to do.
Taking comfort in friends and family
Yet once the door closes loneliness sets in.

Written 11/19/2014

contest: Faces of Loneliness

Details | Shadow Hamilton Poem

She Wolf

My nostrils sniff the air seeking,
the various scents tantalising.
Then I smell the bison and throwing
back my head I howl to my pack.

The bison start to panic and flee
as we follow hot on their tails.
Distant between us shortening at 
each stride I pick a young bull.

Going in for the kill my mate joins
me and together we bring him down.
Helped by the pack his death is quick
tonight we all eat and I will have milk.

Returning to my lair I settle down to
nurse my six hungry cubs. Knowing only
too well that tomorrow it will all
happen again if we are to live.

09/02/2018

Details | Shadow Hamilton Poem

Visions In the Mist

As dawn breaks across the rugged land,
vague shapes begin to blurrily appear.
images of mythical creatures now seen
briefly then brushed away they dissolve.

Is it these images that give legends birth?
the tales of Unicorns and dragons?
The stories of three headed beasts
that wander through the mist shrouds?

Pea soup mists that you can almost push aside
abruptly vanishing as the sun burns them off.
Leaving the landscape we all know and accept
yet memories remain of fantastical things.

That re-emerge in our dreams
leaving us with uncertainty and
knowledge deep down within
that mist cloaks and blinds
what lies beyond the veils of time

Details | Shadow Hamilton Poem

Winter Days

Gone, now just a memory the warmth of summer,
winter's icy fingers now take a harsh grip turning
land to frozen waste. Blanketing it in snow as the
nights draw in, reflecting the bright moon.

Children having fun sledges rushing down the hill
and snowmen appear standing as sentinels to winter.
The whisk of skiers as they fly past speeding downwards
their colourful ski suits adding splashes of vivid colour.

Jack Frost hard at work decorating trees with icicles
some short and others long sparkling, reflecting light  
appearing like gems amidst the sprinkled snow covered
branches. Once more winter reigns supreme.

Icy winds howl across the valleys causing drifts
of snow some eight foot deep, chilling bones
making us huddle down in fleece lined coats
Rosy cheeks blaze out from under hoods,

And fingers freezing cold from handling snow. 
contentment in every face as people head home.
To cups of hot chocolate and toasty warm fires
shutting out for now winter's icy blast.

Details | Shadow Hamilton Poem

Rain Drop

It started high up in the clouds,
the moisture balling together until
it became a perfect tear drop hovering
then falling down, gaining speed.

Bumping into others amalgamating,
spinning dropping ever downwards.
Landing with large splash on a leaf
and trickling, running ever down.

Joining still as it flows on
over the edge to the ground.
The rain drop fell into a puddle
and spread out reflecting the sky.

Glistening, sparkling and pulsing
It follows the contours of the land
giving life to all as it passes  by,
relentlessly advancing with glee.

Not over yet, it flowed into a lake
now a vast body of water it continues
onwards, ever onwards. One day it
will return to the sky. That's another story.

Details | Shadow Hamilton Poem

The Little Fir Tree

There was a plantation of fir trees
for some unknown reason, most of them
were three to four years old but one,
it was only in its first year of growth.

When Christmas drew near, the loggers came
and started to cut down some of the oldest.
The little fir asked "What is going on?"
The other trees said its Christmas time.

They will be taken into people's homes 
then they will be decorated and lit up.
Parcels at their feet sharing the joy
of Christmas, a real honour to be chosen.

"I want to be a Christmas tree," said the fir.
You are much too young and far too little,
they take most trees when they are four,
you will have to wait and do some growing.

"I want it to be spring, it said not winter
then I will be able to grow big like you".
Soon the loggers had finished cutting down,
now there were large gaps in the rows.

The little fir thought lots of sun helps,
at last the spring came and with it growth.
The little fir stretched as high as it could
filling out as it reached upwards for the sun.

In the morning men came and started to plant
soon there were lots of little trees around.
One worker said," strange there is one little one
should we cut it down". "No leave it to grow bigger".

The little fir grew all through the summer
enjoying the hot lazy days while it could,
it saw many changes over the weeks and months
as autumn passed away the land cooled down.

Then came the snows of winter, a blizzard or two
the snow lay heaped around the little fir's roots.
It will soon be time for the loggers to come
then all us four year old's will be Christmas trees.

"I wish I could be a Christmas tree like all of you".
"You will have to grow a lot more before they take you".
The little tree sighed, it so badly wanted to be one,
next day the loggers came and took the older trees.

Once more the rows looked very bare and also bleak,
the little tree hunkered down to wait for spring.
Then one day a little girl and her dad came
they walked down the rows looking at all the trees.

"That one", she shouted, "dad", pointing at the little fir.
"It is rather small, would you not like a bigger one".
"No, no", said the little girl, "that one is perfect.
I can reach to do most of the decorating of it's branches".

Fantastic thought the little tree, I am a Christmas tree
they gently cut it down and carried it to their truck,
when they got home they put some growth power on the base
and planted it in a great big pot that was a shiny red.

The tree looked around the room in awe struck wonder
there were flashing lights around the snowy windows.
Cards strung over the fire mantle, so very colourful,
streamers hung from corner to corner looking so gay.

Then they started to put baubles, tinsel and lights
and a lovely angel to go on the top it felt so good,
at last the little fir would know what Christmas
was like, it watched all the fun as the presents.

Were passed around and eagerly opened with sighs
and shouts of delight, the tree smiled at their joy.
Now finally they sat down and ate their dinner
with many toasts being passed, at last it was over.

Then next day they took the little fir outside
and put it in a cold frame to protect it for the winter. 
oh wow! it thought I will be a Christmas tree again next year
and so the little fir tree got it's dearest wish.

written 12/20/2013 

contest Children's Christmas or holiday Tale

Details | Shadow Hamilton Poem

A Turning Point

The man stumbled on, wanting to get as far away as possible
the sights he had seen and lived through too terrible to contemplate.
How could another human deliberately inflict such awful things on another.
He could see a gentle stream of smoke arising from the distant chimney
and headed for the shelter it offered, staggering on until he reached it.

It was a pretty cottage nestled deep into the hillside and isolated.
He tumbled through the door and collapsed on the floor.
Mistily he drifted in then out of consciousness unable to focus
aware vaguely of a gentle touch that soothed and replenished.
He drank from the cup pressed to his lips and then let go.

The old lady shook her head at the follies of mankind,
and set to work bandaging his festering wounds.
She made a drawing potion to clean out the poison
that had taken a fierce hold racking him with fever.
Then  she covered him and stoked up the fire.

For three days he lay in a coma muttering about the war,
not an ordinary one, oh no, this war caused carnage.
Evil stalked the land every hand turned against the other.
Sons killing fathers and brothers and to what point?
A simple disagreement about Creed had started this.

Weakened by the ravages he was slow to fully heal
yet he learned much from the old lady causing him to rethink.
To look at things with eyes a-new seeing the other point of view.
These new values he took with him when he left thanking her gratefully.
He set out on a new route, his task now to heal and bring peace.

Standing a-midst the crowd on a small hillock he taught them new values
not by preaching as such but by parables that showed the way to peace.
After all he would say; Pause and Think, For What are We without hope?
Everything gone by can be changed, all we have to do is care and act.
So lit the small flicker in your heart and fan up a healing blazing flame.

Details | Shadow Hamilton Poem

A Baby

A Baby only cares about being loved, warm and fed
It does not worry about the colour of your skin
nor if you are good or bad as long as you show love
It does not matter if you live in a masion or hovel.

Religion too matters not a whit to a small tot
A Baby only cares about being loved, warm and fed.
It does not care what part of the world you live
Nor if you live in a town or out in the country.

Poor or rich, hansome or plain it does not care
You may be a manual worker, a banker or a king,
A Baby only cares about being loved, warm and fed.
Holding out its arms with chuckles of laughter.

All pride, prejudice and greed holds no sway
in its little infant heart that is born to love.
It gives a smile that would melt the toughest heart
A Baby only cares about being loved, warm and fed.