Poems
Keith Robson Poet
Brush strokes of eternity
There was a light so long ago
That showed me all I need to know,
Upon my journey softly shone
When every trace of day was gone,
And evening’s charcoal crochet shawl
Traced gently on my sacred wall,
With such a sense of might have been
The far off light that I had seen.
Illuminations wary tread
Lets shadows hide when night is dead,
And all the souls of in between
From all the places I have been,
Come slowly forth and touch my face
Through webs of woven whispered lace,
Like tiptoe treasured memories
Of tired ships on distant seas.
And on the lines of light and shade
I’ll paint the dreams of you I’ve made,
With brush strokes from the heart of me
For I have known what love can be,
Though poetry can write a rhyme
In columned halls of endless time,
The brush strokes of eternity
Will always drift back tenderly.
By Keith Robson
Moonlight through muslin
Moonlight through muslin
Pervading the night,
As those far distant shadows
Are hiding the light,
That was born from a day
When it danced through the air,
Like the lantern ballet
At the foot of the stair.
Morning through muslin
And silken brocade,
Like the soft fingered touch
Of a wish that was made,
As the evening passed on
All the softness of day,
Through the window of time
In its own special way.
Then the curtains were drawn
As the sun filtered through,
And it painted the room
With the freshness of you,
So you threw back the sheets
With a fragrant refrain,
As your soft primrose beauty
Shone forth once again.
The primrose stretched up
With such picturesque style,
Like a lark on the rise
Or the birth of a smile,
And the room shone again
With a kiss from the sun.
Through the muslin veil dream
That the night had begun.
By Keith Robson
Moments drift
Softly stored in gold and grey
Secured in silence
endlessly,
The moments drift
Upon their way
Without a second
Glance at me,
For I have never
Had the time
To watch the seconds
As they climb,
And I will never
Ever see
The hours
Of eternity.
Waiting on a far off shore
With patient
reflectivity,
The eyes of time
Catch everything
Without the need
For them to be,
Though they have never
Sang a song
Or watched the minutes
Dance along,
They count each second
patiently
Like ripples
On the endless sea.
Between the twilight and the dawn
Secured in deep
Serenity,
The soul of night
Is pacified
In perfect peace
Upon the sea,
As midnight shadows
Slide away
And moments dread
The coming day,
That oh so softly
Tries to rhyme
With wordless words
And timeless time...
By Keith Robson
The Poet’s Curse
My paint has dried upon the moon
But I will paint another soon.
Maybe on a star filled night
To fill the sky with silver light,
Or maybe on a tumbling stream
That dances to a rising dream,
Or even on the shimmering sea
Where you can model it for me.
A masterpiece of all I know
Of subtle touch and velvet glow,
Will hang upon your wall one day
Reminding you of me some way.
Of midnight walks and faded rhymes
And all those unforgotten times.
A painting you will understand
That holds me in some other land.
Gold and silver painted fire.
Song chased hearts of deep desire,
And depths of love yet unexplored
Still hang upon our every word.
I’ll take you out upon the lake
Your fingers dangled in the wake.
Inverted worlds we’ll sail upon
Until the breath of life is gone.
But still the story has no end
It waits around the river’s bend,
And changes with the speed of thought.
It can’t be stolen, or be bought,
So I’ll still keep the poet’s curse
Still searching for the final verse,
And when at last it comes to me
Then we shall see what we shall see…
By Keith Robson