MARK JOHN JUNOR : Writing

kara

kara

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


summer had slipped awaybut the days still had sunshine clinging to the fading treesand 'neath one such white picket fence copper colored oakshe lay in..
tidal pool of days end

tidal pool of days end

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


tidal pool of lightgathers round my feet as day evaporateswithout sound it echoes in my minds eyea thousand years breathed in a single momentthe weigh..
powder blue

powder blue

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


her nails are a powder blueeach finger adorned with a ringthat has a meaning and place in her lifethis one she got in her hometown in the south of fra..
the pencil thin moustache men

the pencil thin moustache men

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


her rigorous objections are herded slowly down the sheep trailby studious pencil thin men with stylish mustache's who have deep pocket pickers for fri..
personal poet

personal poet

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


so rich and thick all these things i'm feelinmakes my head spin when your near mesuch a strange dance we do as loversthe poke and runtickle and fightl..
moonlight walking

moonlight walking

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


lets stay here a little longerlets laugh and sing some morebecause i want this moment to lastwant this you and i to go on all nightlets dance a little..
make my heart sparkle

make my heart sparkle

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


soft nowplease step careful round my heartsoft now with all these shouts of joy....know how easy to get carried away but lets not get too far aheadlet..
thistle in the sun

thistle in the sun

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


thorns in the thicket of thought and thistles of the heart's crown makes a bitter teawhich she pours thin for her porcelain dollswith plaster-of-paris..
our sunny day once again

our sunny day once again

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


night is the worstso easy to believe that it'll never endtry and distract yourself but the empty room presses in on youno compromise with the lonely d..
winter was her walking

winter was her walking

A Poem by MARK JOHN JUNOR


he walked slowly throughthe dead leaves speaking aloud his poem of the hearthis world was indian summer that dayshe had smiledwinter was her walkingso..