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Litreature Club Poetry Night!

The following poetry has been kindly provided by our literature club members: ‘aja’, ‘Fahrenheit’, ‘Huskycommander’ , ‘Fox the Eternal’  and ‘Church’ respectively. We hope you enjoy reading our work!

 

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Wildflowers

 

There you rest ‘neath stones so still,

Sleeping ‘neath a blushed rose’s frill,

Gentle soul in quiet repose,

Out far yonder where all the wildflowers grow.

 

You’re always warmed by the sun’s bright rays,

Bees and dragonflies, in harmonic ballet,

Your company was a treasure to keep,

Silently blissful in deep-rooted sleep.

 

May the earth be nourished from your ivory bones,

May life surround you, so you’re never alone,

A memory still, laid to rest below,

In a quiet haven where the wildflowers grow.

 

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Dawn of the undead

 

Atop thyne delusion,

O’wanter of dreams,

Seek one’s resolve,

And die in o-three,

 

Warm skied above,

O’ lover of blood,

Hearts beat in earnest,

And thy spirit stood,

 

Our stray of burden,

O’ dog of yore,

Ovr masters flinch,

And thy-selves once more,

 

Time comes again,

O’ dancer of flame,

Waive your madness,

And theirs reclaim

 

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Night Maiden

 

I long for you, your touch immaculate

my evening prayers have begged your swift descent

the muse who brings the spring in all my steps

the maiden who pours vigour in my soul

But so elusive you would yet remain

my nightly invocations still in vain

for when you brush my cheek, the sun burns high

and just as we would touch, you say goodbye

Then come lethargic days of greying things

grey afternoons, slack eyes with greying rings

a haze of grey to smudge the mind awash

a shade that hues the sky till evening’s brush

When evening blue returns I’ll see you then

a chance for us to meet will come again

have mercy for my longing makes me weep

please come to me much sooner, lady sleep.

 

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The shield and the torch

Deep song-case, Like a damp cave; Concede words mine, Calliope muse divine; Praise give to faith, as Friendship I Chase.

Overlook the vain complaints, the plain Tongue of a singer mundane.

Sailing on the Sea dark wine; Treading on nets, Chains and flame, Sought I a Ruined shrine

Laid there in the dust were a Shield and a Torch, blessed Fane.

Like hoplite waves at Companion sightly as brave, Leaves the spear and knows no pain

So Would I torch in hand ablaze Again, shield my friends and make way

Seeing our bonds flourish into rhyme, Peers in a troupe worthy of Praise, maintained in time

 

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Dead Or Alive

Sometimes I think to myself
Am I dead or alive?
These questions seem so easy
Yet boggle my mind nonetheless

When we sleep, we look dead?
Does that count as dying?
Sometimes you can tell when someone’s dead or alive
But when alive feels dead, who can say?

My hands are cold
And my soul is drained
A walking dead is life
But is a walking life, dead

Recommendations

Once again, members of the literature club (now called ‘Okey Dokey Literature club’) gathered on the 28th of January to share their poetry. This time four members performed their poetry…

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  1. Lawrence Holes says:

    baste

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