Signed copies of books available.

Signed copies of "Love is a Dreamer" and "The Echo of Heartbeats" are available price £10 GBP (or equivalent) inc. p+p. using Paypal.   Please send requests to      alangilbert@ymail.com        giving full postal address. Thank you. 

Don't Upset the Birds

Mrs Wintridge wore a beret

waddling along the street,

tatty coat with missing buttons

ragged slippers on her feet.

In her garden was a fountain

where the birds would come to play,

Mrs Wintridge didn’t like it

screamed at them to go away.

Then she fell into the water

all the birdies gathered round,

saw her splash and cough and splutter

chirped while Mrs Wintridge drowned.

Fathered friends are bathing daily

drinking water as they will,

in that fountain in the garden

where a berets floating still.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2011.

 Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2011.

Poets

We are the poets

The scribers in verse,
  

To some we're a blessing 
     

For others a curse.
      

Our life's a mosaic 
     

Of meter and rhyme,

We fall to depression

And rise to sublime. 

Once it was said  
  

We are slaves to a muse, 

Who love us or leave us 

We are here to abuse.

One minute earthbound

Then soar to the stars, 

We either have naught

Or the planet is ours. 

If I should be starving 

In some distant land,

A slum garret in Cairo

Or a squat in the strand
. 

Don't come to bail me

It's painful but then,

If I free fall to hell

It's all grist to my pen.  

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2011.

They Did

And did they cry to that all knowing God

When gas and shrapnel filled the fêted air?

They trampled broken bodies in the sod

And all the world was sickened with despair.

And did they prey in shelters underground

While all around the shattered city fell?

They dug for hours for children never found

And wondered at their sin to earn such hell. 

And did they bow before mysterious ways

While suffocating in that poison shower?

They fell like weeds most innocent of days

But knew no chosen mercy in those hours. 

And did they sing in thanks that all was done

While dancing on the terror stricken earth?

Their promise was, the prize of peace was won,

Today our dead bear witness to its worth.  

Copyright© Alan Gilbert 2011.

Honeysuckle Wild

Weaving softly through my dreams

As gentle as a murmured prayer,

While I the wide eyed sleeper feel 

Her essence in me everywhere.

There is no shallow in her eyes

No lineament to less extol, 

She moves enticing lips to mine 

And breathes her music to my soul. 

Too soon the jealous Eos spreads

Her fingers to reclaim her throne,

And with the scarlet blushing dawn

The dreams recede I cannot own. 

Though I inhale her autograph

Left ne by this natures child,     

The sweet perfume of ardent love 

Bouquet of honeysuckle wild.

Copyright© Alan Gilbert.