Penelope’s Poems

April 6, 2009


Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 8:07 am



Well, old friend, you’ve left me.

Fate has snatched you in your prime

And not even time

Will blur your memory


Guilt hovers like a crow,

Ready to peck my tear dry,

Saying “Did I try

Enough?”  I’ll never know.


I watched you grow lifeless;

Pain of death clouding your eyes,

Showing no surprise

As you felt my caress.


Then as you breathed your last,

The obscenity of death

Cast its own foul breath

And placed you in my past


Once more

Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 8:04 am

Once More



Well now, here we stand once more,


Toes poised at the waters edge:


Not the novices who wore


Their hearts on their sleeves, to pledge


Undying devotion No,


More like battle scarred heroes,


All too reluctant to show


Truth to the theory; love grows.


Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 8:02 am





Crushed in the yellowing pages of his mind,

Memories, like dried flowers, try to find

A brilliance they once had; recalling days

Once filled with laughter.  Sunny summer haze

Dappling her eyes with fire and shadows Sun kissed

Hair Rainbow spirit now so sadly missed. 

Half forgotten, whispered promises return

To linger in the air  Echoes that burn

His very soul, tormenting him afresh, yet

After all this time, he feels no regret

At having known and loved her.  Sad little man,

Enjoy your memories while you can.      

Love’s young dream

Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 7:58 am

Love’s Young Dream

They walked and drank the scented air.
With flowers he adorned her hair.
She blushed and felt sixteen once more.
Almost innocent smiles they wore.
He seemed a boy; she worldly wise.
They stood alone in their own eyes.
They cared not for the passers by
And not one cloud could mar the sky.
They sat in casual embrace,
He leaned and kissed her glowing face,
Before they parted for the day
Her smile left nothing more to say.
She knew not if she could explain
Just what she felt or hoped to gain
From knowing him  She yearned to run
On sandy beaches in the sun;
Laugh, splashing through the foamy brine
And share it with a love divine.
She wished to lie in fields of wheat;
Share morsels packed for them to eat
With sparkling wine, on summer days
And see his face through sunny haze.
She ached to stroll beneath moonlight,
Then share their love by candlelight.
She hoped to help him through all pain;
To watch him find his feet again
And realise that he was near
To wipe away the errant tear
And make her laugh at life again.
These were the things she hoped to gain.
Yet all is not what it may seem;
She was in love with love’s young dream

Grey Days

Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 7:55 am

Grey Days


Grey days, brolly on the beach,

Seagulls slicing the air,

Soggy sand and sandwiches

And tousled, windswept hair,


Herald the start of winter,

A time to stroll alone

And be at one with nature,

In this, I call my home.


The memories of summer

Are fading with the light

And seem somehow too gaudy

To contemplate at night.

Good Morning

Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 7:54 am



An ominous drumbeat of rain

Vibrates the window pane

It can’t be half past six again!

Slowly opening bleary eyes,

Trying not to visualise

The morning’s grey and windswept skies

A nice warm bath is what I need

And then there’s the boys to feed

“Has anyone seen the dog’s lead?”

A quick smoke and half a cuppa

Wash the plates left from supper.

Breathe in hard, do up the popper!

Cuddle the dog and kiss the boys.

“Mind you pick up all your toys

And try to not make too much noise.”

Check your hair, your make up and lips.

Close the door.  Don’t swing your hips!

I hope I make a lot of tips.

Up the hill and along the way

Looking forward to my pay

And so begins another day.

Drag of a fag

Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 7:50 am



Sometimes life is such a drag

It bores me half to death.

Then I light another fag,

Which takes away my breath.

I love the halitosis

That lingers in the air.

I know I would always miss

It if it were not there.

The gentle ashtray perfume,

That some have grown to hate,

Wafts around my smoke filled room

And fills my lungs-just great!

Painted Lady

Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 7:48 am

Painted Lady


Just like a moth ‘round the flame of a candle,

Close to a love that is too hot to handle,

The painted young lady flies out through the door,

Ignoring the warnings; she’s heard them before.

Her parents can’t stop her.  They pray for her sake,

She’ll not pay alone for mistakes she will make.

So goodbye to innocence, goodbye again;

Embrace in your arms, love’s delicious own pain

And when it is over, I hope she will see,

That though she’s alone, she has some dignity.

The Swallow

Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 7:45 am

The Swallow

He let his body swoop and soar
In stark relief against an irate sky.
His form was proud, his voice was pure
Whilst catching the thermals that rose so high.
Insignificant, on this day,
My mind meandered around this swallow
Cutting a swathe through skies of grey
And how I wished I could fly and follow.
He seemed to fly just for sheer joy;
Streamlined and quite purpose built for his flight;
No materialistic toy
Could offer me such an open delight.
As the chill of evening time
Made me draw close my jacket and depart,
I thought of that small bird so fine,
With gratitude for uplifting my heart.

Bouquet of best

Filed under: poetry — penelopephoebe @ 7:44 am



My granddaughter’s fingers

That clutch me so tight,

The eyes of my puppy

That shine out so bright,

The tattoo of raindrops

On my window pane,

The arms of my lover

Who shields me from pain.

The hyacinths growing

On my window sill,

The laughter at dinner;

The knowledge that ‘til

I finish my journey

And lay down to rest,

My life shall be filled with

A bouquet of best.

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