For Poetry

Waiting  by Robert Neest A tall and wooden window’s open wide  And lets the early summer sunshine slip  Inside the dimly lit and narrow room  And draw few feeble shadows on the walls.  Beside the window stands a girl and looks  Towards a very distant place, away  From where she stays with shoulders brought in front  While arms are tightly held around her waist.  She wears a lively coloured graceful dress  With stylish shoes that are her favourite pair  And light shines on her nicely done hair  To make her look so beautiful and young.  With trembling hands she reads again the message,  As she has done since she received the news,  When several tears are falling from her eyes  And then are slowly rolling down her face. 

Isolation  by Robert Neest Few heavy clouds are covering the sky  Above the lonely white house with brown door  Where at the window an old lady sits  And stares outside with gloomy sorry eyes.  Next to the house a couple stands and looks  Towards the door with their little child.  It is the lady’s son, his wife along  With their daughter that are visiting.  The family is staying in the street,  They cannot go inside the woman’s house  And she cannot go out to meet her son.  Pandemic rules are strict and they are harsh.  The little girl is waving towards her,  She’s happy when she sees her granny, that  Is hiding several tears with a big smile  And yearns to hold her in her arms once more. 

Flower Basket  by Robert Neest It was an early evening at the pond,  That had the water surface calm and smooth  Reflecting next to clouds and parts of sky  The vase-shaped trees that were surrounding it.  Next to the alley getting to its side  There was an yellow basket left apart  With narrow base and wider to the top  And full of flowers that had different heights.  Three yellow roses were next to the top  Above few pink and reddish dahlias  That stood apart from daisies that were short  And filled with white and yellow all around.  Above there was a lower branch of tree  That was completely covered with green leaves  And white and rounded flowers spread along  Were making it look like a solemn arch. 

The Cypress  by Robert Neest A dusty country road was going up Towards the lonely house between the trees Where several chatting people sitting by Were looking at an carriage with one horse. Two lines of grass were trailing all the lane And bordering the yellow field beside That was expanding all that we could see Before the forest covering the hills. Close to the road, there was a cypress tree That seemed to be for ages standing there With all the local people knowing it Since they were children passing on its side. The tree was pointing to the azure heights Through several hasty bundles of white clouds That were dispersed and covering all sides Like moving guards defending earth and sky.

A Night Out  by Robert Neest The stars were filling all the sight above,  Some smaller, in between the larger ones,  Creating vast and speckled tapestry  To cover the whole city over night.  The street was dark with people walking fast  To reach the other sector of the road  Where lights were brighter and few trees have grown  And people often used to sit and talk.  Behind the trees a clamour could be heard  As yellow stronger light was spreading out,  Few tables were aligned next to the street  And local diner customers were there.  The different noisy chatting groups were spread,  With several busy waiters moving fast  And nicely dressed women sitting near  While men were talking loud and drinking beer. 

Sailing Race  by Robert Neest They climb the scrubby cliff until the top  And get to wide and greener level land  With flower specks that mix into the grass  To make a broad and lively coloured rug.  Ahead they have the sea with lovely view  That’s opening in front of their eyes:  Beneath a blue and sunny summer sky,  Dozens of boats were sailing in a race.  One sees them small and moving through the sea  As wind is blowing and inflates the sails,  With people acting rapidly aboard  And shouting to each other on the way.  From where they stand, a sheer slope going down  Is getting to the sandy crowded beach  Where children play and go from side to side  While their parents sit and talk apart. 

Seaside  by R. Neest The two old friends met early, before noon,  They had a lot to talk about all things  That happened since they saw each other here,  Where always was like their cosy home.  On long and brownish wooden chairs they sit  Immersed in deep and tender mat of grass.  Few red and yellow flowers grew apart  Below an old and leafy branch of tree.  In front they have the blue and noisy sea  With waves that crush on heavy row of stones  And fishing boats that move away from shore  While several hungry seagulls fly around.  They watch the rising sun above the sea  As slips through white and various shapes of clouds  And gently warms the air and things around  Preparing for a new and busy day. 

Sunflowers  by Robert Neest The yellow field is spreading all around,  Each flower, tall and strong, is looking up  In search of light and shiny sun all day  And resting during night until the dawn.  It covered all the sight and reached the sky  In distant place as far as we can see  Where blue is stained by white and rounded clouds  Below a giant, hot and shiny sun.  A country road is entering the field  And winding through the sea of golden heads,  The men and cattle traces go along  And vanish in the grass that tracks the way.  A noise is heard and suddenly it starts,  A flock of birds is covering the sky,  Of different colours, sizes fly apart  Few here, few there and almost everywhere. 

River by Night by Robert Neest The night has come and bright stars fill the sky   Arranged in lines and shapes from side to side   And gently light the things and men along   Creating moving shadows on the streets.   The quiet river goes under the bridge   And smell of fish is coming with the wind   While burbling water hits below the shore   Where boats are waiting for a new day’s dawn.   The pier is spanning all the river’s width   With lights on top of every single pile   That mirror on the sparkling water flow   And look like flames where least you would expect.   Two persons come from pier towards the shore,   A man and wife are walking down the street,   The long and busy day of work has passed   And just enjoy the night beneath the stars.  

Landscape    by Robert Neest The different shapes of white and hasty clouds   Are letting see the blue and shiny sky  Just here and there and only for a bit  To show the sun is up and lights the day.  We see the rocky mountains spread around  With green and scattered spots all over them  That are from lonely trees among the stones  Like spears raised from the forest to the top.  Few groups of houses sit below apart  And let the wide and green fields fill the sight  With red and blue and yellow stains about  From warmly coloured flowers on the ground.  A noisy, cold and dark blue stream aside  Is making way through wet and rounded stones  With falling water making white foam there  And sending cool and moisten air throughout.