Poetry and Creative Writing for All

The Top 5 Poems of the Month

July 2006

	Colin Ormston is now a Featured Poet! Read his biography and more of his poems

The Remnants of a Dream

I hear you quietly whisper, your presence fills the air.
I can almost reach and touch you, run my fingers through your hair.
The moonlight through the window illuminates your face,
A portrait of tranquility, a still mirage of grace.

Your eyes hold an attraction, impossible to fight
You draw my spirit in like a moth to candlelight.
The present melts away as the spell is gently cast
Carrying me with you through a doorway to the past.

I see a couple holding hands, oblivious to the world,
Looking deep into a future yet to be unfurled.
Hearts full of innocence, of selfless love and care,
Planning every footstep of a lifetime they will share.

They turn to one another, fix the moment in their mind,
Their faces moving closer, leaving consciousness behind.
What follows is unselfish, two souls becoming one,
Sharing love to last a lifetime in a perfect union.

They lie together silently, their inner thoughts entwined.
A harmony of body, a harmony of mind.
All captured in a memory, forever framed in time,
You and I together, Pierrot and Columbine.

Then the image darkens, a threatening shadow nears,
And out of the ensuing gloom, a preying figure peers.
Possession written on his face,  desire within his eyes,
He waits his moment, makes his move, the love within you dies.

A crushing blow descends and breaks the spirit deep within.
The emptiness engulfs me and I know I cannot win.
My wings of hope are broken, left flightless by the scars
No longer will we soar and touch the faces of the stars.

The shadow has a hold on you and draws your gaze away,
Lures you with the promises that one day will betray
The trust so clearly written on every facet of your face,
And consign it to eternity when another takes your place.

I cradle your rejected form, embrace within my mind
A vision of what might have been had fortune been more kind.
A despairing mist surrounds us and I hold you close as one
Who knows that everything is lost and once more you are gone.

I reach into the darkness, stare into the abyss
Searching for your spirit, the reassurance of your kiss.
But time has stolen you away and cast our worlds apart,
And all that now remains of you is buried in my heart.

I awaken from a troubled sleep and the remnants of a dream
Fade like melting snowflakes as they touch a gentle stream.
The images that ruled the night surrender to the day,
Dissolve into a memory, then gradually decay.

But still I hear you whisper, your presence fills the air.
I can almost reach and touch you,  run my fingers through your hair.
Knowing that when night returns your eyes will once more call
Across the barren shores of time from your picture on the wall.

Colin Ormston

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Here are the other four winning poems for this month.

Red Petal Solitude

Alone, inside the petal wind,
The stillness fills my mind.
Distant voices in the street,
Drone to sweet surprise.
I fall to feel, inside the soul
The silent truth is real
Where the petals meet the wind
Where the shadows stream

Everywhere is nowhere
Inside the petal wind
The silent dream to somewhere,
To somewhere lost within.
Everywhere is nowhere
To seed the truth inside
Everywhere is somewhere,
Somewhere to the mind

All the petals opened
To fall inside the dream
Everywhere is nowhere,
Nowhere to the stream
In the still reflection
The pond reflects the wall.
Everywhere is nowhere,
Nowhere to the call

Alone, inside the petal wind,
Immersed inside the soul
The silent dream to somewhere
To somewhere never known.

Colin Martin

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Devil's Daughter

The fire in her amber eyes would burn with all their might
It warmed the coldest hearts of men while lighting up the night
No mortal girl could douse her flame or stand out just as bright
As she watches on motionlessly to see her man - slip out of sight.

He leads her to the dance-floor in a zombie walking state
She knows that he can't help it as he looks into her face
An orchestra of demons play a melancholy piece
It's the purest thing inside there and the closest thing to peace

The Devil's daughter
Walks on water
You've got to give in to your sins

The ballroom came to stand still as if time had passed them by
It's the five-tiered crystal chandelier that sparkles in the sky
They know to well his soul is hers when the dance draws to a close
When the Hell-mouth swallows two entwined and drags him down below

The house returns to normal and the spirits have returned
What her evil heart desires will be set alight and burned
So be wise to keep your distance and avoid her wicked stare
Or be turned to smouldering ashes by the Devil lady's flare

The Devil's daughter
Walks on water
You've got to give in to your sins.

Martyn Leroy

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My Gan Gan

I knew that she was special,
when I was just a boy.
That this warm and caring woman,
would bring to me such joy.
I tried to call her Grandma,
but "Gan Gan" I would say.
That name is etched upon my heart,
and still is there today.
Such a simple, loving, kind, wee gran,
I´d watch her, starry-eyed.
And when I shouted out her name,
"What is it sunbun?", she replied.
I used to watch her knitting,
in plain knit, or in purl.
And her "snorting" noise while giggling,
just like little girl.
She always loved her crosswords,
which I used to help her do.
But the cross words that she uttered,
were very, very few.
Though, when they were - you heard them,
they were usually aimed at Ross.
My Paps's reaction told me,
just really who was boss!
I have to say I'm fortunate,
but then... every grandchild can.
For the magic that you brought me,
from that small boy - to a man.
We all will have our memories,
of my "gan gan" - that I'm sure.
Mine spanned for over 30years,
all wonderful and pure.
"Gan Gan" - I will miss you,
more than you'll ever know.
But now I know that you are where,
you really ACHED to go.
And thats back with my Papa, 
and together - you will be.
Smiling, happy, in his arms,
like 2 angels, watching me.

Iain Fraser

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Insane?

The old man sat with his head in his hands. 
What had become of his beautiful land? 
Where unicorns used to run through the mist, 
the colours were theirs, the colours were his.

More vivid hues could never have been; 
the purples, yellows, blues and greens 
were absorbed in his heart, to the very core 
of the beautiful land, he sees no more.

The old man sat and opened his eyes, 
he looked around and started to cry. 
In his hospital ward, there were others near 
and they were also were brought back here.

When he was discharged and given his pills 
and a thousand empty days to fill. 
He walked along the street alone, 
longing to return to his beautiful home.

Society judged and called him insane, 
but one day he’ll go away again. 
Back to the land he loved so well, 
the personal heaven that we say is hell. 

Vanessa Hinkley

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To submit a poem to the Online Poetry Competition, email inbox@forwardpress.co.uk (Enter Top 5 Poems of the Month in the subject line, including your name and postal address)

Or post your poems to Top 5 Poems of the Month, Forward Press Ltd, Remus House, Coltsfoot Drive, Peterborough PE2 9JX (Write your name and address on each piece of work you send)