Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
0266 This One's Only For Those Who Like It
Did Jesus, as a baby, cry?For was there aught to cry for?Or were His tears from God’s own holy font,knowing, what He was here for?The story speaks of..
© Michael Shepherd
0265 Tongue
strange name for a pet yeah?but that's what I call itand it knows its nameso we get along OKI keep it in its cage nowsince it's a bit large and..
© Michael Shepherd
0264 Toothpaste Tubes And Toilet Seats
Why do I hate you? Let me count the ways...Oh I could list them.... but no - not the trivialitiesthat drive us into impotent blind ragecommitted..
© Michael Shepherd
0263 Voyeur
Had you knownthat an old man was watchingwould you have beenmore gratefulfor your youth?
© Michael Shepherd
0262 With A Hey And A Ho And An Oh What The Hell
in the springan old man's fancylightly turns tothoughts ofre-evaluating the concept oflove
© Michael Shepherd
0260 You Couldn'T Make It Up If You Tried..
Your box of brand-new football bootsthis European season, where the diktat from Brussels sprouts hurhur,will bear the helpful message'Average..
© Michael Shepherd
0259 Who Am I Not?
I started to write about howI love youbut then the mind couldn't distinguishwhich was I, or you, or love...I started to write that our love was..
© Michael Shepherd
0258 While The Enamel Holds
I've just made a passable loaf:the mixing bowl could almostbe called a Thanksgiving Bowl -maybe, could start a fashion:it's made, not of..
© Michael Shepherd
0257 When The Heart Melts
sometimes,some wonder times,I read a poem here andinstantly want, becauseof the love of poetryor goodness, or truth, or beauty, orwhatever, tolive..
© Michael Shepherd
0256 What Are Those Kids Up To?
It’s in a quiet corner to itselfaway from the grandiose creations of theItalian Renaissance gallery, soyou can stand undisturbed to wonderjust what’s..
© Michael Shepherd
0252 To My Elder Brothers
I think of you more often nowadays, I don’t know why;how is it now with you?And are you still somewhere – if you ever were -that I might talk to..
© Michael Shepherd
0251 To Jerry Hughes At 75
Love is life. Life is love.Everything I understand,I understand only becauseI love.Everything is,everything existsonly becauseI love.Everything is..
© Michael Shepherd
0250 To Indian Poets
'O Lord, I am Your goldsmith on this earth'sang Sonar, Maharashtra's poet of old,who hammered out the ingots of pure truthto poetry, that turns..
© Michael Shepherd
0249 To Enjoy.
to enjoy the enjoyable. It seems a modest enough aimand what we're meant to do by human nature, surely? and yetthat urge to set up the next scene, to..
© Michael Shepherd
0248 To A Poet I'Ve Just Read
An ordinary lifecan bring youall the lovein the worldsooner or later
© Michael Shepherd
0247 Tiptoeing Into Saywell Country
oh shitty kittywhat a pitykitty's bitteryou're out of kitty litter
© Michael Shepherd
0245 The Vision
He read aloud, his dry and academic voiceso quivering with conviction which we did not share,his offering for a footnote which did not requirethis..
© Michael Shepherd
0245 The Sound Of The Flute
Listen to the sound of this reed-flute –hear what it says. First, it lamentsits banishment; its tearing awayfrom its home, its reed-bed. Andthis..
© Michael Shepherd
0244the Soul's Mirror
Do you wish to know what is your 'soul',in all its glory, and its whole estate?To know if it knows but a part, or All?Its birth; its growth, its life..
© Michael Shepherd
0244 Trying To Write A Sonnet
It's a bit like a trip in a hot air balloon -the hot air of thousands of years ofpoets poetizing; all trying to float a little higher than the..
© Michael Shepherd
0243 The Sonnet
Why is this sonnet form so dear to me?this silent cloister of the singing heartwhere I may be myself in sanctityyet meet beloved strangers there in..
© Michael Shepherd
0243 The Second Coming
This first August week, the geraniumsare flowering their second flush:they braved last winter, huddled like cabbage stalksso as to be inconspicuousto..
© Michael Shepherd
0242 The Poet's Secret Love
even beforeyou writethe poemyou should lovethe readers
© Michael Shepherd
0241 The Poet Tree
Tenderlywith its soft leavesthe tree shaded the poetas he wroteand as its leaves felland the year turnedthe tree wishedthat it might be rebornas a..
© Michael Shepherd