Shifaaz Shamoon

Poets Muse

David MaynardNovember 21, 2019

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Rate this poetry

Sending

User Review

4.43 (7 votes)

Poets Muse

written by: David Maynard

The poets muse is a whispered lie
Grains of sand fragments of time
Lingering love a fateful kiss
Love once true will soon be missed
This tattered heart bleeds its torn
From woman's anger to hatred's scorn
One mindful moment an empty soul
The part that's played a walk-on role
Love once showered now lies in wake
Held in silence for no one to take

About
Latest Posts

David Maynard

David Maynard is a new author of poetry and short stories. He grew up in the mountains of Southeastern Kentucky where coal used to be king. He currently resides in Ohio. He is working on his first novel. His work can range from serious to comedy.

Latest posts by David Maynard (see all)

Without Haste - May 23, 2020
Gone - April 3, 2020
Nothing - March 1, 2020

Ger White

Gerardine White (mostly called Ger) grew up in wild open country of West Limerick, Ireland. Her country life is represented in her poems and has a strong bearing on her core values and education. She inherited the skill of poetic rhyme from both of her parents and her Grandad – who were all fine poets and storytellers. Her education took place mostly in South West Ireland and the rest of it is gleaned from travel, from life, and from being an avid reader of all kinds of books. In recent years she has returned to poetry writing. This past year seeing her published in four Anthologies from Clarendon House Publications. She sees herself as a Spiritual person, very connected with life in all forms. She is happily married for past 20 years and currently lives in Sussex, UK. She enjoys healthy pursuits of country walks with a nice cuppa tea and chat at the end.

Resurrection by Suzanne Craig-Whytock

On the day that Budgie died, I was young and very sad. He was a pretty bird, always singing in his cage. Sometimes we let him out to fly around, and on that day, the curtains were wide open and he slammed into the glass hard. Momma put him into a shoe box and I cried as we buried him in the back garden among the lilies. The next morning, very early, I snuck out of the house and dug him up with a garden trowel because I wanted to see him one more time. When I took the lid off the shoe box, his eyes were open and his wings fluttered ...