RICHARD DOIRON

RICHARD DOIRON

How I Would Love

Were you to ask me how I would?

love, my answer would be simple:

I would love like the wind loves,

rustling through the trees;

I would love like the wild flowers

emitting their sweet perfume;

I would love like the summer rain

that comes a lullaby;

I would love like the birds that sing

and the mighty rivers that flow;

I would love like the lightning

that brings the thunderclap;

I would love like the rainbow

that fills the sky with colour;

I would love like a young child

still too innocent for words;

I would love like a gazelle

for the speed of its legs;

I would love like the mountain

that gives the valley shade;

I would love like the valley

where echoes are heard;

I would love to the ends of time

for the privilege of loving;

and I would love the way you do,

for the inspiration that you are.

Poetic Non Sequitur

When all that’s hidden is revealed

And secrets all expire,

The wine that’s been unsealed

Will level every field

Of passion and desire.

Upon that day a fickle flood

Will course through every vein,

The dashing dream a dud

Belying bardic blood,

No poet shall remain.

Pas De Deux

While upon the water glancing

With such intent the glance to meet

A cloud I spied sure was dancing

With such allure it moved my feet

So there I stood a rushing fool

And moved with it in smashing dance

The likes would make an artiste drool

In moments rare the Master grants

But oh so brief the magic spell

The mirror gives the mirror takes

The cloud took leave I'm forced to tell

With the rippling the water makes

Yet in that brief though blinding flash

I danced so well you'd think it odd

Who've seen me move in fitful dash

Unless you knew I'd danced with God

The Night The Eagle Shrieked

He'd dreamt a dream like never once before

the sort they'd say would speak of him a pawn

prophetic things they'd make but metaphor

the words unread from out that lexicon.

Inside that "sleep" he'd seen the mountains fall

the rivers rise that washed away the land

the people massed their backs against the wall

the ice in sheets that shook the desert sand.

From off afar he'd heard the eagle shriek

a frozen feel that settled down his spine

that bird alone the one now left to speak

the world gone mute to frighten Frankenstein.

He'd dreamt a dream that they'd refused to hear

though each in turn had walked away in fear.

I Am The Voice

I am the voice where voices seldom heard,

Let posers pale and walk away in fear:

I give to each and every single word

A certain twist the lot of them to hear!

I am the heart where heartless fellows mass,

Let brutes beware upon their ruthless perch:

My voice rings out so loud it shatters glass,

The priest himself now trembles in his church!

I am the soul where spirits sorely lack,

Let doubters dread the very thought of me:

Though wolves decry the leader of the pack,

He comes to them in time their liberty!

I am the voice that rings out in the night.

Go tell the wounded ones they've heard it right!

RICHARD DOIRON

RICHARD DOIRON, New Brunswick, CanadaPublished 50 years; recipient of LifetimeAchievement Awards, World Poetry 2012; WorldFriendship Poetry 2017; named World Poet Laureate,World Friendship Poetry 2019; nominated for

Order of New Brunswick 2019. Estimated 1000poems published in over 100 books/anthologies.