For Poetry

At the T heat r e   by Robert Neest   Below the shining ceiling spanned above  Inside the tiny loges spread around  A young girl with her mother sitting down  Is waiting the beginning of the play.  She’s wearing a new dress she bought last week  With fancy haircut that she likes so much  And rising from her seat with prying eyes  She wants to see it all, to hear it all.  Two ladies speaking loudly behind her,  A sitting couple holding their hands,  A group of standing men in front of her  Are making a low murmur to expand.  The chatting stops and all are sitting down,  The lights are dimming everywhere around  And leaning back in her soft cosy chair  The girl can now relax, the play is on. 

  The Journey  by Robert Neest  The plain and simple things are those we feel  In our lives on any common day  And keep us all together on the ground  Like sturdy stones resisting over time.  They are the same for poor and rich alike,  A hug, a smile, a warm and sunny day,  Reminding us that we are here and live,  As different as we are, in the same world.  Apart, there are some goals and wishes, too,  That make us grow and we are seeking them  With hopes to find a better, finer life  Fulfilling our journey on the earth.  But they are distant and the shapes are blurred,  Each person sees them in a different way  And trying to get closer and find out  What do we want, it takes us the whole life. 

Boat At Sea  by Robert Neest  Below a blue and shiny summer sky  The azure water of the sea is clear  And gentle wind is coming from the shore  Creating tiny ripples all around.  The brown and wooden boat is moving slow  And sliding forward through the silent sea  With slight moves of the paddles driving it  While sail is tied with massive sailing knot .  A young and robust man is holding oars  With yellow straw hat covering his head,  A white short sleeve shirt showing his strong arms  And dressed with white long trousers, sitting down.  Next to the man, a woman leaning back  Is wearing a blue dress with untied hair  And looking in the distance breathing deep  Is smiling when she feels the mellow breeze. 

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.