All change for M lady Adria
Familiar landmarks disappear
gradually as darkness falls.
Though if you listen you can hear
the roosting birds exchanging calls.
From nests in tree you cannot see
though you’re aware that they’re still there
Enwrapped in night fall’s mystery.
There is no way you can compare
the quiet countryside at night
with the busy and bustling day.
All life moves faster in sunlight
until the sun sets anyway.
Darkness can make the world we see
into a realm of fantasy.
26-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Late Evening stroll for Friend Bob
Night falls swiftly and silently.
Across the quiet countryside.
The new moon shows through fitfully.
Although the dark clouds try to hide.
This slender crescent from our view.
They succeed only partially.
Soft silver beams keep breaking through
providing light so I can see.
Quite well enough to find my way.
The darkness does not frighten me
though I prefer the light of day
But still stroll contentedly
by paths familiar to me.
Which lead me home eventually.
14/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Night visions
I do not fear the dark, my eyes
adjust so that I can see.
The beauties which would otherwise
be hidden by the night from me.
To walk abroad alone by night
seems only natural to me
Quite different from brighter light
the sun provides consistently.
It is a different world by night
the garish colours of the day.
Have been replaced by black and white
as beautiful in their own way.
As anything you see by day
The muted colours softening
harsh outlines in a subtle way
Moving shadows intertwining.
Produce in me serenity
A mood the quietness inspires
I stroll enwrapped in reverie
as often as my heart desires
I can look back nostalgically
recalling how thing used to be
or look ahead and try to see
what the future holds for me.
I see the darkness as a friend
For me it holds no mystery
I know for sure I can depend
upon the quiet night to be.
A time when I can meditate
and view my world quite differently.
Which will let me appreciate
all of the beauty which I see.
Although some people fear the night
and find the silence frightening.
To walk by night is my delight
I find the quietness soothing.
11-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Shadow Dancers for M 'lady Amy
The shadow which throughout the day
have hidden quietly away.
In nooks and crannies which they know
Day is their time for lying low.
When darkness falls come out to play.
Although the sunlight rules the day.
The silver moon’s in charge by night
and she has granted them the right.
To freely frolic through the night
they do not fear her gentle light.
Though when the sunrise lights the skies.
They hide again if they are wise.
Perhaps the sleep all through the day
I do not know I cannot say.
I only know it’s my delight
to see the shadows dance at night.
They can appear and disappear
but they are far too fast I fear.
For human eyes to clearly see
the shadows dancing gracefully.
Our eyes accustomed to the light
don’t work efficiently at night.
Though sometimes watching quietly
You see them dancing silently.
17-Jan-09
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Consonation.
Daylight subdues and fades away.
Dark shadows creep across the sky.
Scarlet now tints the west with pink
Sunlight can no longer reign.
Night comes into its own.
Nothing can change nature’s plan
The Sun will rise and quickly chase
The darkness of the night away.
As it was so it will be as long
as this world still spins.
Kasa a Korean form.
18/10/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Black & white and shades of grey.
The curfew marks the fading of the light.
Now is the time when shadows congregate.
In hidden corners where they wait.
To welcome eagerly the fall of night.
Although by daylight forced to hide from sight.
The fall of darkness sets the shadows free
To go about their business secretly.
The quiet hours when the shadows claim their right.
But dawn will come and with the dawn daylight.
The shadows then are forced to hide away.
Throughout the day, to wait impatiently
Counting the hours until the fall of night.
Though where the shadows hide no man can say
With any degree of accuracy.
Tuesday,07 February 2012
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Night owl for Friend Colin
The sky a layer cake of hues
from darkest greys to palest blues.
The sun has set and daylight fades.
The birds have sung their serenades.
All noise is hushed as darkness falls.
The shadows vanish from he walls.
As curtains drawn against the night
deprive them of the yellow light
that’s cast from windows far and wide
Confining shadows to outside
The living rooms kept warm and bright
perhaps because men fear the night.
But I do not I am content
the darkness is my element.
28-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Where do they go? for M'lady Denise
A sky layered in lavender,
old rose and streaks of gold that glow.
Against approaching indigo
as night accepts day’s surrender.
The sun descends into the sea.
His task complete it’s time to rest.
As night achieves a slow conquest.
The colours will fade gradually
Tomorrow morning with the dawn
The pastel colours will return,
The Sun will rise to take his turn.
As in the east new day's born.
Where do the pretty colours go?
when darkness reigns. I do not know.
Saturday,03 July 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Minor Sins for M lady Lorraine
The shadow of an echo falls
upon deaf ears which listen not.
They fail to hear the distant calls
of memories they thought forgot.
The sinful acts they have repressed
and buried deep in memory.
Are in their disturbed sleep expressed.
Rise to remind them forcefully.
The night mares we perforce must ride
are merely our self punishment
We cannot from our conscience hide.
We must acknowledge and repent
those things we did unthinkingly
before we can sleep peacefully.
14-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Changing perspective for bro Colin
A patchwork quilt of sunlit fields
Is visible as grey mist yields
to the majesty of the sun.
The morning mist and night shadows
are well aware that they must go
Now that a new day has begun.
The distant hills which I now see
Become for me reality
Now that the mists have fully gone.
No longer just a fantasy,
a half forgotten memory.
I wandered happily alone.
I did not lack for company
I had my book of poetry.
What more could any poet need
except a quiet spot to read.
31/08/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Darkness Of...
Darkness is not the darkness of night
it is the darkness of mind and soul.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of discrimination between poor and rich.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of dishonesty.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of aggravate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is darkness of corruption.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of indiscipline.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of animosity.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of inveterate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of perjury.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness that we all brought up inside us,
so, light the lamp of light inside you...
poem by Suniya Garg
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Twilight
When twilight falls silently
It’s time to meditate,
As daylight drains away
consider thoughtfully.
the events of the day.
When twilight falls silently
the ending of the day
My worries disappear
I sit in solitude
my mind becomes clear.
When twilight falls silently.
The quiet soothes me,
I find I can release
the stress I do not need.
An interlude of peace
When twilight falls silently.
I know what I must do.
Submit to reverie.
no one will disturb me.
At least not easily
18-Mar-09
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Monchielle
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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What nonsense is this?
I see the moon, the moon sees me but she sees more than I can see.
I am earth bound I cannot fly but she serenely floats on high
and bathes world in silver light. Which can relieve the darkest night.
She grants to all men equally, sufficient light for them to see.
The cloak of darkness does not hide, lying in wait for prey outside
werewolves, vampires, ghosts and ghouls. The flying predators are owls,
that haunt the night on noiseless wings in search of mice and smaller things.
The silver moonlight reassures to some extent but does not cure.
ancestral fears. Although far fetched are nonetheless so deeply etched
in the collective memories of human kind. The vague unease
which is still felt by men today when darkness falls and night holds sway.
Of course does not apply to us, just to the superstitious.
18-Aug-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Water colour for M'lady Yuri
The setting sun imparts a glow
upon the surface of the lake.
In shades of red which come and go.
Some are translucent, some opaque.
From palest pink to deepest red
and every shade that lies between.
They last until the light has fled
and darkness falls to rule the scene.
I sit and watch in wonderment
the sun descend beneath the sea
To me it is quite evident
that all is as it ought to be.
The moon will rise to rule the night
and paint the waters silver white.
19-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Tonight could be the last you see!
.
The night is not my enemy.When darkness falls it sets me free.
Thanks to my night adapted eyes.I take my victims by surprise.
Young healthy girls preferably, each one is chosen carefully
It is their choice to walk alone before I claim for my own
I drain their blood efficiently ‘til I have fed sufficiently
Although I know there’s sure to be a hue and cry to search for me
By the time that they are found I will have safely gone to ground
To where my coffin waits for me. I sleep peacefully
Until the sun sets in the west then I resume my nightly quest.
I stalk the city stealthily and find fresh victims easily.
Although the old legends persist they don’t believe vampires exist.
Until the night they catch my eye.Then they believe before they die.
I have to kill to satisfy the burning thirst I can’t deny
I do not slay for cruelty.I need their blood to sustain me
I am as I was meant to be. The predator you do not see
until the night you meet your fate. You may not have too long to wait
It could be you I choose tonight to satisfy my appetite.
If you are wise you’ll stay indoor, safe from night prowling predators.
I don’t suppose you’ll pay much heed. Humans are a stubborn breed
Sunday,07 March 2010.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Nightfall for M'Lady Ernestine
The evening sky in shades of grey.
Light grey, dark, grey, all tinged with gold
Denotes the ending of the day.
I watch entranced as I behold
the darkness falling gradually.
The blue transmutes to indigo,
the last remnants of day light flee.
Reluctantly but they must go.
The stars come slowly into view.
The constellations wheel and turn,
forever old, forever new
and catch your eye each in their turn.
If I but wait the moon will rise.
Each night provides some new surprise.
18-Jul-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A September Night In The Countryside
Out there in the quiet countryside in the still of the night
The unmistakeable cry of a hunting fox in the moonlight
And perhaps at the threat of a predator to their ground nest nearby
The wary spur wing plovers are calling as they fly
Like the fox the predatory night birds have young to feed this time of year
And the loud screech of a barn owl not a pleasant sound to hear
And to the boobook calls of mopoke on the nearby trees
The brooding small bird in her nest does listen with a sense of unease
On the quiet rural roadway few cars pass up and down
On a September night in the countryside miles from the nearest town
And the calls of the male ringtail possum one never could mistake
He will be back in his leafy nest before sunrise at daybreak
The predatory birds and animals who hide from the lamp of day
In the still of a September night are out hunting for prey.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I don't regret what might have been.
When the sun sets and the world is still.
I seek release in solitude
This is my time for memories
Some I can recall vividly
Selected from the multitude
Of dreams which I could not fulfil.
Some were my own and some were not
I can look back in retrospect.
Though some quite unexpectedly
Decide to surface suddenly.
Each one is worthy of respect
Although they have been long forgot.
The quiet time that lies between
The end of day and fall of night
Would seem to be appropriate
To sit alone and meditate
After the sun fades from sight
and contemplate what might have been.
Eventually I must conclude.
That I am where I’m meant to be
Some times I tried only to fail
My efforts were to no avail.
When I look back nostalgically
I know it’s just an interlude.
I’m well aware that all too soon.
I must accept reality.
The humdrum world of every day.
Is never very far away
And banishes my reverie
Beneath newly risen moon.
I face the morrow with a smile
Because I know the sun will set
Then I seek my solitude
Enjoy the peace and quietude.
That I so very seldom get.
If only for a little while.
I tend to stick to my routine
I am too old to change my ways
I see no reason why I should
The peace and quiet does me good
As I review my glory days.
I don’t regret what might have been.
Sunday,04 September 2011
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Demystified for M' lady Cate
The mist persists, it will insist
it has the right to block the light
with trailing wisps of dirty white.
The mist is wrong and it will learn
to leave when it has served its turn
Because the sun will rise and burn
the remnants of the mist away
There is no way that it can stay
once the bright sun comes out to play.
The mist defeated has to go.
It leaves reluctantly and slow
but where it goes I do not know.
It will return with fall of night
lurk in the darkness hid from sight.
Unless outlined by the moonlight.
The silver light makes it appear
to be the ghosts which cause men fear.
But they will quickly disappear
When banks of cloud obscure the light.
Be re-absorbed into the night.
to their dismay but men’s delight.
The mists persist they wont desist
as long as day and night exist
and if they did they would be missed.
The moisture which the mist supply
the plants trees drink thirstily.
Without the mists some plants would die.
1-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I Hear
When the trees sing what matters is knowing.
That the trees are singing at all.
their gentle music ever out flowing
for those attuned to hear its call.
Although all children hear and sing along,
most adults have forgotten how
to listen to the trees and hear their song
They’re far too busy to allow
themselves to be distracted by the trees
Their minds are fixed on other things
and do not miss the melodies
The gentle breeze amongst the branches sings
It makes no difference at all
The trees still sing as they have always done
in summer, spring winter and fall.
I listen for the music of the trees
those sad but sometimes joyous harmonies.
10-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Whatshisname
An actor always plays a part.
He has no personality.
It is the essence of his art
an actor’s capability
To become anyone at all.
Whoever they’re supposed to be
at least until the curtains fall
Revert to being nobody.
Their whole life is a fantasy.
They don’t know who they really are.
They can cope with reality
but only so much: Insofar
as I can see, because they can
act like any other man.
12/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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