Trophy – The Mush from the Hill

This one was published on Free Verse Revolution as part of their July theme of ‘Love’. Go check out some of the other great works over there.


She was loved once

She once loved

But love has a cruel way 

Of casting aside those that 

Are seen as no more than

Trophies to be presented

Until the trophy becomes

Battered and tarnished

Scratched and bruised

Then it is just discarded

For no one to love

Not even herself

John is a Welsh Poet from the coastal city of Swansea in South Wales. His inspiration has come from many aspects of his life and the beauty of his local surroundings. He also likes to add a little imagination for good measure. You can read more of John’s work at The Mush from the Hill.

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In celebration of my wife’s 50th Birthday.


We came together

Raging hormones flying high

Fun lusting youngsters


We learned together

Hearts entwined by clumsy grip

Climbing like ivy


We fought together

Cursed words of hatred and pain

Crowded space, no air


We stayed together

Promises of chance and luck

Wrapped up in hope’s sash


We love together

Spiritual countenance

Life’s binding contract


We cry together

Tears of pain and of joy

Ending in rainbows


Soul mates forever

Sewn together by life’s thread

Real loves tapestry


Copyright © JRFC June 2019 
Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

There She Was

I saw her today

Like nothing had changed

There she was

The blast from my past

Oh flutter my butterflies

But she’s oblivious to my eyes

Should I call out her name?

Would she remember mine?

It’s been a long time since our infatuation

So young then, so much older now

Best kept in the good ole annals of time

At the bottom of Memory Lane


Copyright © JRFC May 2019
Image by suju from Pixabay

Purple is all I Remember

How long has it been?

Weeks; months

Since that night

Of gay abandon

That cursed my heart

For evermore


I wonder without purpose

Lost and abandoned

By a Dream

No; a memory

Caused by a reality

I just can’t be sure


Purple is all I remember

Purple; Fragrance?

I don’t know why

Or how a Colour

Can have an aroma

But it does; it did


This is the answer to my riddle

To me finding…?

Something or someone

On the edge of my subconscious

A grip on me like fingers in my skull

Like a… A spell


This is ludicrous, madness

I have to accept this fate

I’m done thinking, looking

For an answer to my imagination

I… I’m here!

This is her place


Find out how the story begins or continues.

Copyright © JRFC April 2019
Image by Rondell Melling on Pixabay, modified by JRFC.

My Special Guest tonight is…

Robert Burns and A Red, Red Rose

A Scottish poet and lyricist Burns was born in 1759 in Alloway, Ayrshire and was known by many names, my favourite or which is Rabbie Burns, I love that. He wrote his poetry in his native Scots language as well as in English. A man of many talents it would seem.

He is thought of as a pioneer of the Romantic Movement. Even after his death he became a great source of inspiration around the world. Celebration of his life and work became almost a national charismatic cult and his influence has long been strong on Scottish literature.

This lovely poem I thought suited the time of year. Although Valentine’s Day has passed is this not the month when we do the dance of love (and I’m trying to cheer up (forced smile)).

So I hope you enjoy this lovely poem, which I found read better with my imaginary Scottish accent.

A Red, Red Rose

O my Luve is like a red, red rose

That’s newly sprung in June;

O my Luve is like the melody

That’s sweetly played in tune.


So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

So deep in luve am I;

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

Till a’ the seas gang dry.


Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;

I will love thee still, my dear,

While the sands o’ life shall run.


And fare thee weel, my only luve!

And fare thee weel awhile!

And I will come again, my luve,

Though it were ten thousand mile.