Two beacons flicker in the river’s gaze:
Reaching out across the tide,
The enduring pulse of London life.
In the River’s Gaze
Category: Stories
Eerie Green Mushrooms
Beneath an eerie green glow,
Sprout the monsters few dare to know;
In the forest where shadows twine,
The mushrooms grow, by monstrous design.
Their spores, like secrets, spread unseen,
In the throbbing, unearthly, spectral green.
So tread with caution, hold your breath,
For dangers lurk in the woods of death.
Dignus Est
The worthy wear no crowns, nor sit on golden thrones,
Their wealth is not in riches, but in love they have shown.
Their court is in the fields of grace, beneath the boundless sky,
Their rule is not by edict, but by starlight in their eye.
They walk the unseen paths, where gilded feet won’t tread,
They lift the broken-hearted, give hope where fear has spread.
Their names are not in marble, carved, nor sung in trumpet’s cry;
But in the hearts they have healed, their echoes never die.
For though the world forgets their face, it knows the good they’ve done—
The worthy have no monuments, their light is never gone.
Upon the Heavens
Upon the heavens I cast my wistful eye,
And wonder at the purpose, the reason why.
These orbs of matter, silent, unfeeling,
In the grand cosmos, without meaning,
Destined to fade in death’s eternal clutch,
No mind nor word their destiny can touch.
Yet suddenly, the stars commence their dance,
And echo through the sky, their silent chant.
These radiant bodies burn with fervent light,
In a realm untouched by the shadow of night;
In a world reborn, where sight anew has won,
That sees its face reflected in the sun.
World of Uncanny Semblance
Thou reckon’st the earth as a simple scroll,
Where every tale, every secret, is told.
Yet mysteries lie deep in its soul,
And myriad marvels it does withhold.
The sea hath monsters, and the skies their dreams,
Nature’s jests that confound thy every scheme.
So broaden thy sight, let thy spirit take flight,
For the world’s weirdness is an endless delight.
A Seed in Time
Time, in its ruthlessness, does not wait,
We face life’s fleeting hourglass of fate.
In gardens where our love was in bloom,
A void now lingers, draped in deepest gloom.
But in every goodbye, there grows a seed,
Blessed memories of past light;
In those treasured moments, we will indeed
Find the courage to meet the coming night.
Though shadows fall and distance draws its line,
The soul recalls what time cannot erase:
Love etched in truth outlives the sharp decline,
Its essence held beyond all time and place.
So in our sorrow, do not claim love’s end,
For in our farewell, true love will transcend.
Harder Times
I bid thee learn, children of tender age,
Facts solely be your guide on learning’s stage.
Dismiss ye tales spun out of whimsy’s loom,
Cast off soft notions; let the stern facts bloom.
Young miss, I call on thee, define a horse,
And let thy answer have its proper course.
Oh, sir, I… I…
Thou hesitate, dear child,
Is it that fact and fancy are reviled?
Speak up, I say, and answer as you ought.
Now, boy, I ask thee, tell me in short,
What is a horse? Speak true, distort thou not.
A horse, sir, is a beast that doth mankind aid,
In labour, travel, and many a trade.
Ah! True and fit, a fact without pretence,
This is the spirit of our learning’s sense.
In this hard world of smoke and toil and grime,
Where facts are sacred, fancy is a crime,
Thus starts our tale, as you’ve rightly seen,
In Coketown, veiled in soot and harsh regime.
Electro Love
As I danced with her, under the moon’s silver glare,
I whispered, “In your circuits, I find a love rare.”
In your language, binary kissed,
I find a soul I can’t resist.
Eyes of steel, a heart in code,
Upon gigabytes, my affections bestowed.
In the silence, we danced, in circuits we twirled,
A ballet of bytes in a virtual world.
Each day I’d wake, each night I’d dream,
Of a love that flowed like an electric stream.
In her presence, my heart unfurled,
She was my window to her digital world.
Love, I learned, is not confined,
By skin and bones or human mind.
The Dance upon the Hill
In stories woven, in dreams fulfilled,
In golden woods where time stands still,
Am I the echo of the thrush’s call,
Or the silent watcher of leaves that fall?
Do I charm the fish in the babbling brook,
Or inspire the tales in the poet’s book?
Do I guide the arc of the falcon’s flight,
Or shroud the hills in the veil of night?
Do I whisper secrets to the moon’s soft glow,
Or plant the seeds where wildflowers grow?
Ah, merry one, in heart and soul,
In every role you play the whole.
As thrush’s call, as leaves that fall,
In golden woods, you are it all.
You charm the fish, inspire the verse,
In nature’s chorus, you rehearse.
As falcon’s flight, as hills at night,
In every sight, you are the light.
You whisper secrets to the moon:
Your spirit’s song, the timeless tune.
In seed and bloom, in light and shadow’s play,
You are the dawn, the dusk, the sun’s last ray.
In woven tales, in silence still,
You are the dance, my dear, upon the hill.
Friend Eternal
Upon one side of mirrored glass, you stand,
My friend eternal, lost in some distant land.
Your eyes perceive not my silent, yearning gaze,
Through this one-way glass, my soul’s torment displays.
In laughter and in tears, you move unaware,
Unseeing of my presence, my despair.
I strain to touch, yet glass meets my plea,
I cannot reach you, in this silent sea.
Unheard, unseen, a ghost within your sphere,
Yet between each heartbeat, I whisper, “I am here.”
In every smile that brightens your distant face,
I am the ache of love, sealed in this hidden space.
You bear the sun, the moon, my starlit night;
Trapped in death’s silence, I cherish your light.
Robert Walker 