Archive for old

you are (more than these words)

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 17, 2017 by bradford graham west

sometimes curly, sometimes straight.

light to dark and dark to light.

her hair changes upon season and mood.

eyes shine, glimmer like diamonds.

she’s a springtime song, thawing out the winter’s chill.

her face, smooth and delicate.

her silence says a thousand words; her tone soft and angelic.

her presence, like soft falling snow, graceful and quiet.

the elegance, the beauty, outshines the sun on any given day.

when her smiles make an appearance,

my heart becomes weak, and falls again.

her skin, creamy; glowing.

her heart, caring and giving.

a dedicated humanitarian, her modesty might say otherwise.

a seeker of truth, dwelling within the words.

a wonderful mother, a juggling between life’s acts and little wonders.

a wife that only a man can dream of.

wishful thinking to my reality.

she is a symphony in life.

a rock upon which i can lean on.

a friend no one can be, the best.

you are.

you are more than these words,

more than what my painting can say.

you are the essence of my desire.

oh, my love!, my heart longs when you are away!,

and when you are within these arms, i beg for forever!

c.2013, 2017 BGW

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and in today’s news….

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 8, 2015 by bradford graham west

to all who breathes

and to all who leaves;

each day we wake,

and each day we take.

as we forget,

we sometimes forfeit.

american holiday mix drink toast,

raise your glasses and let ourselves roast.

take heed to the news that rapes our emotions,

natural disasters make for a false front for needed national answers.

“and in today’s news,

the media molds your mind like paper mache…,

details at eleven…”

 

and yet to all who breathes

and to all who leaves;

each day we wake,

and each day we take.

and as we forget,

we sometimes forfeit.

 

 

 

c. 2015  bgw

rusted

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 7, 2015 by bradford graham west

a once conceived dream lined in silver and gold,

now finds itself crumbling into a pile of rubble and shifts into rust.

here! in the room of once found comfort and privilege,

now easily squeezes and suffocates every drop of light;

leaving one drowning in an invisible darkness.

one sought inside a book of favourable word

for some sort of answer,

but instead made ones guilt stab another in the back;

don’t turn back,  don’t want you back.

but if here,  i find myself at the end,

in a once conceived dream lined in silver and gold

in a room of once found comfort,

now easily squeezes and suffocates every drop of light;

let me crumble and fall into a pile of rubble and shift into rust

 

c. 2015 bgw

summer tree

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 8, 2014 by bradford graham west

 

summer tree,  leaves of green

i walk on the trails beneath,  in your shade.

i pass by, and in the blink of an eye

summer tree, your leaves are in a changing colour

red,  yellow on orange,  brown as they sit on the ground.

the brisk winds blow and shakes your coat of colour bare.

summer tree,  i must let you be,  autumn tree

under the bare branches i stroll quickly.

as i turn my coat collar up,  i hear the silent sounds of snowfall!

winter tree, i hear your whispering be!,  winter tree,

the snow falls and collects by your feet,  this is your ground.

the crunch of a white blanket under my boots,  into puddles i find

winter tree!,  good-bye to thee!  in a spring tree we are all awakened!

out of a hibernation,  you wake with a new beginning

a sunrise warms your leafing blooms

spring tree!  thawed from a frozen daze, oh!  spring tree!

your flowering creation in your fragrance – in a stroll i stop.

cascading waters of a creek underneath your height,  i  breathe it all in !

oh spring time tree!,  leaves of green!  give me your shade once again!  summer tree,

summer tree,  leaves of green

i walk on the trails beneath in your shade

and as i pass by,  in the blink of an eye,  we meet as i see!

summer tree,  leaves of green

i walk on the trails beneath in your shade

i pass by, as quickly you welcomed,  we said good-bye again,

summer tree!  leaves of green,  once again where you and i become we  –

all in a seasonal sonata we danced away!

 

 

c. 2014 bgw

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

my writing desk

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 11, 2014 by bradford graham west

70

“…a comfort known as my writing desk.  in the urge to write, the creating of a story, ones people can picture in their minds and picture themselves in the proses.  sometimes i find myself just watching the world pass by there.  and other times i find the minutes disappearing all in the words that draw the story.  in a comfort known as my writing desk, anything can happen.  a bad worldly day wiped away by a good wordy verse or two.  the comfort known as my writing desk,  a place where i can bleed,  emotions will speak and seasons pass by…”  bgw

c.2014 bgw

of bright colour pallet

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 5, 2014 by bradford graham west

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

seasons come and go,   and the dream remains

as long the ocean waves crash ashore

the sea’s mist kisses your face –

and salty breeze rushes through your hair as the sands warm the toes

you seek and find a calm, a peace that cannot be ignored

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

years fly by,  all in a blink of an eye –

she grips my thumb with her hand and gazes her baby blues from her daddy’s cradling arms

hands on the clock never stopped in reflection of life

the wedding bells gave her away and now drove away into some other story’s chapter,

oh daughter,   happiness just left me with a tear and a wave good bye

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

/

dream to desire in a world to explore,   i desire more

an english isle castle outside of a busy city hustle

a desire to go back,  a desire to love and love you anew

finds a cold winter white  turning its head to spring’s journey

summer heat meets and dies in autumns arms only to be handed back to winter

/

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

buried and stuck in post holiday snows

a snow that once was thought beautiful and fun

now hangs as filthy slush and a nuisance

spring tulips of  bright colour pallet

looms and weaves itself in the dreams of the people

c.2014  bgw

fool’s paradise

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 3, 2014 by bradford graham west

 

jet plane

crawls across the bright blue sky

jet plane

leaving a faint white line behind

we know where you’ve been.

leaving a faint white line behind

it all disappears as you glide  on by

gone,

gone,

gone

 

sunrise

slowly peaks its light into sky’s darkness

sunrise

shine down the warmth on my face.

dancing with clouds high above

shine down the warmth on my face

sunrise till the noonday –   the sunset takes you home

move on,

move on,

moved on,

 

paradise

always thinking it was on an island

paradise

in the garden that was only my mind

made me blind,  i left myself behind –

in the garden that was only my mind

the only paradise i gave blind to and left behind

 

oh!,  jet plane you are gone,

into the sunrise of some other paradise,

and here’s to tomorrow  –  we all must move on –  moving on,

move on

 

 

c.  2014   bgw