Author: Charlie Alford

I like to think I'm a story teller. I love stories. I believe the world is filled with stories just waiting to be told and learned. I enjoy travelling down the road less travelled, with my iPhone and journal in each hand. Here you'll find all my poetic musings... Enjoy!
Posted in England, Family, Loss

Goodbye, Uncle

Posted on by Charlie Alford

We got the word on Christmas morn,

And they told us you were gone.

Asleep, at peace, with the angels

The Silent Night, your Swan Song.

So, rest your weary head, dear uncle

your work on earth is complete.

“God is good”, you used to tell us

Now you’re sitting at his feet.

Sitting in the kitchen corner

With your cigarette and smiles.

“Oh, My” and “Exaa-ctly”

we would laugh with you awhile.

I’ll remember your red jumper

And the coat that was too big.

I’ll remember your brilliant mind,

And playful mischief with us kids.

I remember the last gift you gave

Was a box of “Indian Sweets”

We all gasped, and gave you “the look”

But were grateful for the treat.

Rest easy now, dearest uncle

Your light shines on us from above

No words can describe our sadness

Always and forever, sending our love.

Image

Posted in Australia, Christmas

Tinsel In The Sunshine

Posted on by Charlie Alford

Little red hats, singlets and shorts

Walking in thongs along the port.

Standing together in candlelight

Caroling with friends into the night.

Raising a glass and spreading cheer

Fingers cling to ice cold beers.

Shrimp skewers sizzle on the grill

Accompanied by sautéed krill.

Southern climes can be a lot to bear

When gathering for an English fare.

Hot roast turkey with all the trimmings

Some veg but lots of stuffing.

Feeling the heat inside and out

That’s what our Christmas is all about.

Posted in Supernatural/Magic

A sestina poem about vampires… or at least a poorly constructed first attempt!

Posted on by Charlie Alford

In the forest, beneath the tree’s shadow

A lost young girl snuggles into the dark

Embracing the cold she pulls her cloak on

Hypnotized by the tall handsome vampire

His hungry eyes lingering at the mark

burnt onto her skin when she met her doom.

 

Many nights have passed since he met his doom

His twisted wicked past leaves a shadow.

Etched into his soul, an eternal mark,

A reminder of days before the dark.

A child of the night he is a vampire

He doesn’t sleep, he is always turned on.

 

There is no blame, no one to put it on.

The morning light will always be their doom.

Blood bonds them, united as vampires

Roaming the night, living in the shadow

Guided by the moon, dancing in the dark

Children of the night, evil has left its mark.

 

Time has a habit of growing that mark

The moonlight is all they can depend on

Paving their fate as creatures of the dark

Haunted by the memories of their doom

Their mortal selves dead in the shadows

Their souls succumb to the kings of vampires.

 

Lessons are learnt from her master vampire

She ventures through the night to make her mark

performing her dance in the forest shadow

with only her charm and wits to rely on

she brings the next mortal to their doom

as eternal beings of the shadows.

 

A mark is left when we fall to the dark

Our inner vampire takes nightmares to build on

Here we meet our doom and succumb to the shadows.

Friends

Friends

 

Summer storms through the silly season

And I am my own fashion treason.

Asleep in my hoodie and flip flops,

Cropped leggings and blue Whovian top.

At my desk the universe lights up

But a first thing first, where’s my Garfield cup?

On my phone is a little image

So my sleepy eyes start to scrimmage.

An old photo of a time and place

Where five girls are caught in an embrace.

They look up at me from yesterday

Far. Far, away from this port side bay.

Those were the days of Pimms and flowers,

Best friends, and summer showers.

Gone are those days of dancing till dawn,

Getting drunk, waking up on the lawn.

No we’re closer to the big 3-0

Alarm clocks and coffee run the show

Dancing along the trapeze of life

As friend, worker, mother, sister, wife…

The world has spun a few times or more

Since I was last knocking at your door

But no matter how far we all roam

That time, that place, will always be home.


Posted in Australia, Seasons/Nature

30.1.2011

Posted on by Charlie Alford

Sitting under a southern sky

soaking up the tranquil day

I watch the world pass me by

from the city by the bay.

 
The sky is the bluest blue

and the trees burst out in song.

The natives drink their home brew

in the land that they belong.

 
Stickiness and ickyness

there is nothing we can do

The end is anyones guess

and we do not have a clue.

 
So grab your sunnies and your hats,

and head on down to the coast.

Here it is,  summers back

and we’re all about to roast!