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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn  3/1/2015 11:02:29 PM
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A Poet's needs

A poem begins with inspiration
Not often that easy to acquire.
Thus a poet needs some stimulation
A prerequisite that is required.
The elusive stimulant comes from life
Through living, loving and all its delights
Plus dying, hating and all of Mans strife
And unfulfilled days and all lonely nights.
Whichever the reason the seed had been sown
Come harvest time the yield is a poem:
Be it sad or happy, lengthy or terse
The world still hungers for the poets verse.
So those of us in need for expression
Will write our verses from sense impressions.
Albert Ahearn



A Poet's Rue

I remember as a young boy
Sitting on top Mount Parnassus
Consumed in writing I enjoyed.
Mostly poetry to express
At the time my innermost thoughts
While below my childhood playmates
Romped and played and most often fought.
And myself trying to translate
Feelings into coherent thought
And writing them down on paper.
I recollect those times that taught
Self- discipline behavior.
Yet if I lived it all again
I would be one of those children.
Albert Ahearn



A Prosaic Gift

I harvested a small handful
of beautiful dandelions
arranged them in a special way
that their mini-globe candelas
illumined a yellow aura
surrounding the nosegay cluster.
Their subtle, invisible breaths
exhale a perfumed atmosphere
that becomes irresistible.
And she who shall hold this bouquet
is impelled to whiff its essence;
to discover its true purpose;
and accept this prosaic gift
of my undying love for her.
Albert Ahearn



A Quiet Fourth

I composed this poem on the morning of Independence Day 2008.

July fourth and firecrackers aren't heard.
Perhaps because it’s raining as I type.
I thank the gods for booming sounds deferred.
My guess, I’m getting old. I hate the hype
That everyone is caught up with today.
In youth we did exactly all that's done
Perhaps a smidgen more so, by the way.
The noise we made, heck! It was all in fun.
We celebrated Independence Day.
I’m no longer young, oops! Slip of the tongue.
A senior citizen I’m called today
It’s political correctness among
The hearing impaired. I beg you don’t scoff
Guess what? I had my hearing aid turned off!
Albert Ahearn
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BEST POEMS:  (Click on a topic to list and read the poems)
• angel poems
beautiful poems
death poems
friend poems
• girl poems
home poems
hope poems
kiss poems
• life poems
loss poems
love poems
music poems
• nature poems
rain poems
school poems
sex poems
• soldier poems
summer poems
sun poems
war poems
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Poems By Poet Albert Ahearn