88 Keys

Black and white they play together.
Through the ages they’ve remained in harmony.
Though they all speak a different language
They never judge each other; Their colour never seen.

Black and white they work together.
Such things of beauty they create.
Never saying no to a new masterpiece.
Forever friends; They know no hate.

Black and white they sing together.
All kinds of music they can make.
And although they may not always sing in tune
Their will to sing will never break.

Black and white they feel together.
Whether happy or sad, they’re always by each others side.
So many emotions they’ve experienced.
But never have they cried.

Black and white they live together.
Eighty-eight souls that seek to please.
Together they hold a message of peace …
Those sweet Piano Keys.

Author:  Ryan Hatton

http://poetsknowit.co.uk/eightyeightkeys.html

Little Angel Wings

Flying above the troubles of life,


She spreads her little wings.

The scenes below forever changing,

But her little heart; it sings.



She knows no doubt or anger.

She feels no pain or sorrow.

Her little eyes have seen a different light;

That shines far beyond tomorrow.



Her little hands have touched the sky’s cloudy faces.

She knows how they hope and dream.

Forever making wishes while their tears erupt.

They cry for her sometimes it seems.



Her little feet have walked above the stars,

Where the Angels souls all shine.

Forever in a land of peace;

A land with no need for time.



Her little face smiles for her precious ones;

The ones that had to say goodbye.

But she’ll wait for them in Heaven …

And then together they will fly.



Author: Ryan Hatton

http://poetsknowit.co.uk/littleangelwings.html

The Watcher

A blaze with emotional deceit
My eyes meet,
For reserved elemental sleep,
Cast my gaze upon the different
Picked upon the many, I mask with reflected light,
Inverted light assembles my mirror image,
In focus I hail
But not to impale,

I groom for intelligent conflict,
For not an easy conquest will for fill,
The bends of light bounce off the bends of curvature,
Symmetry is of importance,
I observe the routine that follows
Quietly placing quests of morality,
I reserve such a place in my heart, for only these matters,
I am not one for short gazes,
The longitude of the elemental heart is ablaze in my gaze,
Observing and reporting for many a day,
For years I stand aside
Such not protection or an angels moral duty
I watch for mistakes in my choice.

For years I am the watcher
Placing my faith in the perfect prey…
But none of which exists,
While I observe my list of characteristics
I understand why the watchers role is one of lonely hearts,
Chance is an opportunity to coincide with elemental bliss,
While I gather my information with such length and focus,
I’ve found a missing frame in my reel,
The watcher stands alongside for years,
Such foolish sights
But the watcher is being watched,
Time waits not for narrow sight,

His catholic tastes have narrowed his search for the wonders of chance,
Nor chance nor winner of hearts, he brings,
The watchers heart cannot be perceived from a frame of focused light,
Instead of hearts standing alongside, hearts should stand in front for all to see,
A blocked path
Some may stay some may leave,
But chance is a virtue, the watcher must see.

Author:  Alexander Rason

http://poetsknowit.co.uk/thewatcher.html

A poem inspired by Spirit

Children of the rainbow, all join hands,
standing together, from far and distant lands.
Standing together, we unite,
Guided and loved, we are standing in the light.

Children of the rainbow, shine your light,
Stand, brothers and sisters, for we must fight.
Not with gun, bomb, fist or blade.
But with the love and knowledge,
from the ONE, we are made xxxx

Author:  Kerry Harris

http://poetsknowit.co.uk/spirit.html

The Slient Ones

Before you drew breath, till the end of time
we walk beside you, loving and kind
trying to guide, not overstepping the line.

Some of you are aware, this makes us glad
most never know, this doesn't make us sad,
Our love is eternal and one day we'll meet
we will take you home and get you on your feet

Some of your hear us, gentle and true
trying to guide but to leave it to you.
Some of you see us, through dreams or a med
most of you doubt, think it's all in your head

Forever beside you, faithful and true
trying to help not make choices for you.
Never to judge for Earth is a school
Life lessons, being the rule.

Accept we are there, you are never alone,
I will be there to take you home.

Author: Kerry Harris

http://poetsknowit.co.uk/thesilentones.html

Silence

In the silence I sit............waiting
Anchored........ribbons of colour, swirl and entwine.
Filling my lungs with light....
I exhale hurt and pain
.....as you whipser to my mind
Author: Kerry Harris

http://poetsknowit.co.uk/silence.html

Red Night

Red nights a thunder
Makes the fools wonder,
Ever last I lumber
For the red man I slumber.

Thunder strikes kiss the sky
Rippling the sound of the lord is near,
He shouts before me
Warning me of my tears,
As the serenity of time eases the thundering sky,
My tears will come
Come winters night.

My shame is my generals might,
For the man…no heart for the enemies right,
I follow over the red nights a thunder,
Before the iron strikes,
No sirens of guns,
Set a cast a ghostly overcast,
The haze of the powder confuses,
The calm is nothing to inhale
For thunder is about to strike
Before the shell of the red night,

Such honour and contempt,
We men have forgotten to display,
A race stands before us
In such slow decay,
In my dreams I see before me
The red mans might,
It roars in the thunder
Like a tigers right.

Burning the inhabitants, disillusioned by the enemy of the night,
The tiger’s eyes pierce through me in my dreams of slumber,
Red is my tears
Rippling upon the floor I stand before,
A red lake may consume,
For the body of my enemy
Floating through,

All I see is the face of my enemy
Standing within my tears,
Red is the only colour I see now,
The hate of me consumes,
I have been painted the colour of the sky that night,
See it now…
Red is my night
Until the thunder strikes
Illuminating the Indians right,

No right of existence,
For we are the enemy
Cast, we are in immoral light,
Red is this colour
I dream of at night.

Ever last I slumber
With the guilt of contempt
I wonder,
Red nights a thunder…

Author:  Alexander Rason

http://poetsknowit.co.uk/rednight.html