Tag Archives: day

To Coin a Day

A day has another side Think of a coin Lying on the ground Quietly Undisturbed by passersby Like a shadow in the sun Now you see it Then, it’s gone…   Thatcher Doran Advertisements

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The Consist Reminder

Day to day The endless cycle Turns The consist reminder A persistence… A tenacity… Oh beautiful but frail Humanity Blake’s words of innocence And experience Of faith and dreams Beware… The four horsemen Of the apocalypse   Thatcher Doran

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Slip, Sliding Away…

The last train Slips Through deserted yard Pass metal fence… That naked lazy bank And on Towards satellite posts Then, the flatlands This snake will blink And wink At ditch and tree Into the last hour Of a vexed day … Continue reading

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A Day Slips

The rain Cold and wet Returns… To wash away What remains…of an afternoon Dark clouds Paint a sky…battered and bruised Ignores The anxious twilight As another darkness Creeps Hissing like a snake The day finally trips Softly slips Underground Soon … Continue reading

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End of Day

The day slowly draws To a halt Ambiguous to say The least I could spend another hour speculating as to what it Meant! Gulls cry “freedom” Their echoes penetrate The now empty building Just before The six o’clock bell Rings … Continue reading

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Alchemy of Chance

at that moment of doubt where is the message…? a symbol of hope that graffiti on the wall…. or that quoted poet…. where are the words! the alchemy of thought for me…. it’s travelling by train on a Sunday morning … Continue reading

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Thursday Morning

Thursday morning breaks yawns across the landscape but its grey…. greyness hangs like a veil before the eyes, drapes the young day fragile…. as delicate as a butterfly before its maiden flight   Thatcher Doran  

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Endeavoured

We are …. each one of us but a moment in time merely a breeze with a fading residue an afternoon one glorious summer our scent briefly lingers our time expressed in a minute, an hour through day and night … Continue reading

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It Is You And Me

i see poetry in a blue sky i hear words whispering in a gentle breeze or shouting in an angry wind sometimes i feel the melancholy in a child’s innocence poetry is day and night in life and death it … Continue reading

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His Age Is Showing

the man in the ambiguous brown suit bobs and nods his head paying tribute to the labour of his day though, his age is showing and bit by bit the face will twitch the mouth will slip as saliva gathers … Continue reading

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