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Ian Jones Poem
In the golden glow of a lover's moon
With a soft breeze caressing darkest night
The quiet lane with leaves was strewn
Expectant hearts and wide eyes bright
The bards and poets paint romance
With dreams and hopes of deep, rich hues
And in Madrid we took our chance
As our love donned it's dancing shoes
That first embrace and sweetest kiss
Our nervous smiles in moonlight shone
Floating emotions of swirling bliss
All doubts and trepidations gone
In our lives we'd known such sorrow
Illness had taken your husband's life
I never thought there would be tomorrow
As cancer had taken my dearest wife
In the Autumn of our lives we know
To take that cliff edge chance was right
And as we embrace in moonlight's glow
We'll ne'er forget that October night.
Copyright © Ian Jones | Year Posted 2016
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Ian Jones Poem
Just before the ridge there sat a wooden bridge
And it's planks had been in place a year or two.
In the grass almost forgotten was a log which had gone rotten
And was hollow end to end the whole way through.
Inside the rotten log there lived a lonely dog
No-one loved him so he didn't have a name.
He sat there all forlorn and watched a golden dawn
Scratched his ear and whimpered in his shame.
He trotted into town just to have a look around
And to see if someone would like to love a pet
But when he drew up close people slapped him on the nose
And a bruise seemed all that he would get.
Battered, bruised and confused and a little bit bemused
He slowly limped his way back to his log.
I'd be a faithful little friend right until the very end
He went inside and cried, this little dog.
One night a raging storm which was really not the norm,
Swelled the river flowing underneath the bridge
And unknown to the town the flood was flying down
From the slopes and gullies of the ridge.
The little dog just ran to warn the nearest man
Of the danger rolling downwards in the dark
And the town began to shout as they got the people out
Thanks to the little dog's frenzied bark.
With the morn' the flood had passed, everyone safe at last
But the little dog was nowhere to be found.
Then came a cry, a sobbing voice screamed, Why?
His little body lying lifeless on the ground.
An iron bridge painted brown now sits above the town
The rotten log was long since thrown away.
Pride of place on the bridge is a plaque for little Midge
And the sacrifice he made that stormy day.
Copyright © Ian Jones | Year Posted 2016
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Ian Jones Poem
The kiss
Sensuous soft lips
Pressed together in passion's name
All senses reeling and my heads in a spin
I never imagined it would, could feel like this
Don't want to breathe I'm powerless to resist
My heart rate is racing chest pounding a rhyme
The pressure releases, slowly our lips peel apart
We open our eyes, we sigh, we smile and then
We take a deep breath and do it again
and again, and again
mmmmmmm
Copyright © Ian Jones | Year Posted 2016
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Ian Jones Poem
I sit in a tent, rain pouring down
My children are crying, no food to eat.
My spirit is failing, starting to drown,
Hands clasped in prayer, my God to entreat.
My homeland has perished, corruption and war.
Our houses destroyed, our lives ripped apart.
Inhuman brutality to even the score
The only choice left was to make a new start.
I am not a migrant, nor scum of the Earth
But driven by force at the point of a lance.
Educated, hard working, a person of worth,
Am I not worthy to be given a chance?
Described with derision, insulted and harmed,
Demoted to numbers contained in a speech.
Our boat was a lucky one, only becalmed
The others all drowned, bodies found on a beach.
I am not subhuman, good Lord above
I must give my children a chance to succeed
To live life in freedom, respect and love,
If you prick us do we not bleed?
Copyright © Ian Jones | Year Posted 2016
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Ian Jones Poem
Swallows
swoop weaving
Summer into
Vermilion skies
whilst the warm
breeze whispers
a welcome to
the coming night.
The gentle rippling waves
lap the tranquil beach sands
as the birdsong heralds the end
of a glorious Summer's day. A
million untold stories played
out on life's vast stage. Night
falls softly, so seductively
silently bringing new life
to secret dreams,
precious wishes,
a brighter, more
glorious promise
for tomorrow
tomorrow
Summer
Copyright © Ian Jones | Year Posted 2016
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Ian Jones Poem
Last week, one evening, Tuesday I think
After a lovely hot shower I dried.
As the steam cleared I was forced to blink,
I just dropped the blue towel and cried
And I then wiped the mirror and sighed.
When did it happen? Why was I not told?
I had to re-wipe the mirror to see.
All of a sudden I had grown old
And an old man was squinting at me
Caricature of who I used to be.
Every battle and pain was etched on my face
Like a relief map of old Kathmandu.
My hair had all gone, my teeth had a space
And I looked a lot like old Mad Carew.
I just said, What the Hell happened to you?
With a tear and a sniff, composure restored
I lamented that life had not been kind.
I turned to get dressed, dejection ignored
And to get everything straight in my mind
Then I caught sight of my saggy behind!
Copyright © Ian Jones | Year Posted 2016
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