Lifeboat - Ian Duquemin

Well I see you… 
Like a kind of lifeboat 
On a stormy sea
Reaching out to rescue me
To pull me from the waves
That try to drag me under 
Above you… The clouds 
So angry in their thunder 
But you find me… 
And save me, time and time again
While the clouds burst 
Drenching us in rain
But you hold me near 
And those clouds all disappear 
As in your arms 
I have nothing to fear 
You're a lifeboat 
Tumbling on a stormy sea
Always there to save me, from the depths of my insanity 
Never alone… 
Not drowning on my own
Just keeping me safe… 
And bringing me home 

Ian Duquemin

Image : Mumbai Mirror

Cold-Water Swimmer - Oscar Milde

In bobble hat and rubber shoes,
she looked a most unlikely muse
but, seeing her, I scrawled a sonnet
(I had my surfboard. I wrote on it.)
She stood there dripping, shaking cold,
and was a pleasure to behold:
a poem-in-flesh, a fishy tale.
I’d read each verse if she were braille.
She brightened up my day entirely.
Cold-water swimmers do inspire me.

Oscar Milde

Image : Pixabay - Free-Photos

Parade - Lyndon Queripel

Who rained on your parade
And stole the thunder
From under your feet
Who took the wind
Out of your sails
Breaking the heart of your beat
It wasn’t me was it ?

Lyndon Queripel

Days Pass - Joan Etoile

Measured by medications
The wheel of the pill dispenser 
Goes inexorably round
And is filled each week in a ritual
After breakfast and blood pressure testing.

To see that it’s safely down
To the recommended level.

On go my glasses as
The pills all look the same to me
There are so many to marshal 
Jumping like fish from the foil packets
Elusive under the furniture. 

Now which of them are for breakfast and
Which ones are to go with my tea?

Joan Etoile

Image : Pixabay - ID 27707

Dumbfold - Stephen A. Roberts

I was in the Market building  
Practising my shielding  
The island slowly yielding  
To the new dawn  

Blue mask grey eyes  
Sitting outside  
Looking so fearful  
Looking so normal  

How did we get here 
Governed by our fear 
We’re catching no colds 
All wearing dumbfolds 

Your eyes are shining  
And slowly brining 
We’re saying nothing  
Voiceless, choiceless 

Stephen A. Roberts

Image : ©Stephen A Roberts