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Friday, 31 October 2008

Spell Casting

I long to cast magic’s spell,
know thee well in autumn’s night.
A wish just for thee, my heart,
Cupid’s dart in love’s true light.

A cauldron of potions stew,
witch’s brew, reveal to thee,
and hold my love in thy sight,
Samhain light, for thee and me.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Thursday, 30 October 2008

Spark the Flames

Each lesson learned is one small spark
that sets the mark of our flame,
Now our knowledge we should share,
with no care for love or fame.

Skills that die with their master
are forever lost to all,
one passed to another’s hand
to be candid, will remain.

Let your fire of wisdom shine
as those in line want to learn
and your light will always glow
above, below, the flames burn.


Quote Prompt: If you have knowledge, let others light their candle in it. (Margaret Fuller)

© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Shades of Autumn

As autumn brings vibrant shades
the sun fades towards year’s end.
Trees of green now golden red,
their leaves shed and colours blend.

Nature’s brightest palette forms
in wind and storms over land,
inspired art in paint and ink
as minds think with fall at hand.

Bonfires and feasting begin,
err snowflakes spin the world white.
The end of one leads to new,
in winter’s view, land so bright.

We watch in awe and wonder,
hear the thunder, lightning bolt.
Yet feel delight of seasons
year’s reasons do not revolt.


Definition of err

Verb: to wander from a direct course at random


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Wednesday, 29 October 2008

Twenty One?

Title: Twenty One?

Form: Awdl Gywydd

Fireworks brighten the night sky,
reason why? To honour you.
I believe that to be so,
my nan’s show, surely it’s true.

Simply the best should be yours,
without pause for thought or chance.
My nan is special, no doubt,
so I’ll shout aloud or dance.

On paper and ink in quill
a poem will say with style
my wish of happy birthday
with word play to bring a smile.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Tuesday, 28 October 2008

Ravaged Ice

In winter’s claws, all is white
from frost’s bite and the snow.
Set the fire, love, in the hearth,
warm the bath, and feel love’s glow.

Toast me crumpets on the grate,
my hunger sate, watching dreams.
In the flames my thoughts of love
drift above to our loft’s beams.

Damask quilt that keeps us warm,
fingers trace form in lust’s vice.
Your passion melts my cold heart.
My love’s art has ravaged ice.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Kick back with a scotch bonnet

Endless hassle,
a gavel pounds against my brain.
Computers are whining, printers are drumming
the boss must have a hole in his head.
Back stabbing remarks heard behind doors,
just once let me get even.
He wants my ass, I know how to play,
so maybe today I should.
Let him think he’s got lucky, a grin that seduces
until he is eating out of my hand.
Bondage the game, with him in chains
wearing a Scotch bonnet on his wee head
as I kick back and relax
watching him sweat.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Thursday, 16 October 2008

Leave My Desk Alone, Guys

Anger written all over my face,
I’m sat behind my desk.
nothing left in the correct place
it is getting grotesque.

My pens and pencils are missing,
unread letters in the ‘out’,
I can feel my rage now hissing
but still I do not shout.

Then I saw my precious easel
lying there on the floor
like an over used, worn plimsol
my nerves can take no more.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.

Death Before Dying

As years swept past, old age arrived,
the grey replaced his jet-black hair.
His eyes of blue need lens to see
An aid in ear is placed with care.
The fatigue of time has no relief
the once vibrant mind is dull.
A stick of ebony helps him walk
the physical grief has taken its toll.
Why can’t he remember me?
He sees me and sees my mother.
his wife who passed so long ago,
each visit is slowly killing me
I want my dad, not his shadow.
I grieve for man he once was
as he knows nothing of me.
In his memory, he is still young,
a soldier fresh from war,
my mother by his side in white,
he’s lost to memory now
as he slips further she holds him closer
his bride wants him with her to stay.


© Jem Farmer 2008, all rights reserved.