Sunday, December 1, 2019



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, 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.


  1. A big thank you to Our Poetry Archive for including me in this publication alongside such an august body of poets and authors - a distinct honour and privilege!

  2. Thank YOU, Richard for sharing your words, poetry which touches the soul and enlightens the mind.