Poets In Their Melancholy: Poem

Poets In Their Melancholy

Poets, with troubled lives and secret thoughts
Have often stood and looked this way
And in this half light, strong and secret
What they thought, nobody can say

As dusk fell, and windows would close
Some words from soft songs would drift in
And take root in the present; some lines
Would nestle in a stranger's heart and brain.

Poets, lost in their melancholy
Lost in the muddle of their lives
Weave verse and rhyme: and thus it is
That their work their lives suvives.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Whispers Into The Brick Wall: Poem

WHISPERS INTO THE BRICK WALL


Who else will listen silently while I speak of my love for you
Who else will stand still while I whisper my secrets
Those deep, hidden secrets buried in my heart
Except this rough, brick wall
Standing so tough and so tall
While I whisper all I have to say;
Nobody would remain as stoic and immobile.
No, nobody could or would. I ,myself
Knowing myself so well, can hardly believe all
That I pour out into this ready wall’s ear
I , myself, can hardly listen to my own words
Speaking out my barely avowed hesitations
And uncommitted love’s crimes; I , myself softly touch
This rugged wall and it’s surface
As though it is the skin of my loved one’s face.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Whenever My Soul, Like A Shrunken Dream: Poem

Whenever, My Soul Like A Shrunken Dream


Whenever, my soul like a shrunken dream
Wonders and waits with wasted breath
Destiny beckons on but the road is long
And at the end lies only, only death


Now and then a diamond in the dust
Sparkles with quiet passion
Blossoms colour my dreams
Life is far from all it seems


Paltry rhymes, simple songs, hasty verses
Coming from God knows where
And going on to rocky streams and a pebbled shore
Surely living meant far, far more.


Far away, waves crash in the misty cold
A flagging swimmer, a hallucinating teenager
A tired woman wait for their lives to unfold.

Copyright: Rani Turton