The wind strikes once more,
he’s tossing washing lines
and turning trees,
threatens to strip the ripe colour
which makes the season tolerable.
I wonder what’s made him so fierce:
He’s giving me glimpses of winter,
the lockdowns imposed,
when stepping outside
becomes a crime, where
the only feature will be the trash
blown starkly down our street
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
*We may have to find new ways to entertain ourselves this winter.
It could be today
The awoken read the signs
All the boxes ticked
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Copyright Francis Barker 2020
Through the iron bars I can seeThat tall and sturdy oak tree.Though these bars are rustedAnd my cellmate untrusted,That tree stands tall and meanIn that wild field of green. A remembrance to men like meThat at one point we were free.Tall and sturdy, green and rootedTill one day to jail we were booted.For a crime […]
The Tall and Sturdy Oak Tree — Primitive Poetry
***Reblogged by Francis Barker, poet.
I’m one of the few in a madding crowd, as they pour their eyes on me I shake my head out within the cloud. To not trust me by sight, but feel the relent of sacred night. As I speak not for al; I have my words not spoken loud. For this I’m not proud. […]
‘vehemence, — Jojo Al-waealy
***Reblogged by Francis Barker, blogger, writer, poet, artist, astrologer.
