E.C.F. Doyle : Writing

It's A Funny Old World

It's A Funny Old World

A Poem by E.C.F. Doyle


Not my usual sort of thing.
Hibiscus

Hibiscus

A Poem by E.C.F. Doyle


Coming to the foreFor a momentary injectionOf light or meaning.Kisses the day, withers,And is forgotten.A thought in Bedlam.
Love?

Love?

A Poem by E.C.F. Doyle


I shall try to explain, a fear as it is; When in adjacent seats, strangers do meet, Or more so, do not meet. The brushing of shoulders ..
Hanging Over

Hanging Over

A Poem by E.C.F. Doyle


Where will we be in our wandering hours,When the quarter light splits the nightAnd we toll the dreaded dower?Recalling divine heroes of mendacious dre..
Nameless

Nameless

A Poem by E.C.F. Doyle


Transitional periods in life can be defined by our nameless associates.
The Hands That Know

The Hands That Know

A Poem by E.C.F. Doyle


Maybe time is not on our side?
Schooldays

Schooldays

A Poem by E.C.F. Doyle


We live and die in schools
Tree

Tree

A Poem by E.C.F. Doyle


Life withers, trees grow.
Art

Art

A Poem by E.C.F. Doyle


Abstract structured blank verse.