Terry O'Leary : Writing

I hear Guitars a'Calling

I hear Guitars a'Calling

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


I hear guitars a’ calling in the gloaming’s final flingwhen sinking suns subdue their flames and fairies take to wingas day departs, a yaw..
Gypsy Guy

Gypsy Guy

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


Well, Gypsy Guy would rather die than hunker down in chains,be ridden south with bit in mouth, or heed the hold of reins;the ones that plot are in a s..
By Now You Have Forgot...

By Now You Have Forgot...

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


Remember all the Wise Men on their knees upon your yacht?With orphans on their backs they’d crawled (with others that they’d brought)Thr..
Days of Crystalline

Days of Crystalline

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


Fat midnight bats feast, gnawing gnats, and flit away serene while on the trails in distant dales the lonesome wolverine sate appetites on fogg..
Sleep in My Arms Lullaby

Sleep in My Arms Lullaby

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


Soft somnolent skies have ceased seething, for day’s nearly through,while winds echo whispering thoughts of returning to youand heavens throb, p..
Merchant Ship

Merchant Ship

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


A swallow swoops for flitting fliesWhile Johnny rubs exhausted eyes(As morning clasps the rising sun)Confirming Captain’s day’s begun:Slow..
On Halloween

On Halloween

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


On Halloween the sky was scarred.The blood moon peered with pale regard(a gaze that pierced the pit of night)upon the spell of death and fright,along ..
Dark Black Night

Dark Black Night

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


Once upon a midnight, ghostly, Partied many, dead ones mostly. Feasting in the graveyard, sprightly, White eyed werewolves gorged, engros..
Epitaphs in Verse - Reflections in the Eyes of a Poet

Epitaphs in Verse - Reflections in the Eyes of a P..

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


The eyes behind a head inclined reflect a universe Of shanty towns and kings in crowns and parties in a hearse, Of heaping mounds of coffee ground..
The Wolf

The Wolf

A Poem by Terry O'Leary


A cruel Jack Frost blows icy floss (in front of spring a’ burstin’)while shiftin’ sheaves of withered leaves near freezin&rs..