Tag Archives: poetry

Italian (Petracchan) Sonnet

Based on a writing prompt for a secret crush.


“Catch & Release”: A Villanelle

It was a barbless hook.

Erroneous as this belief may be,

might be why you tore loose.

Although that day was clear,

I was blinded by tears and I could not see

it was a barbless hook.

You swam up to me so dear,

risking all to be with me!

Might be why you tore loose.

In your eyes, there was no fear;

All risk was yours and I was free.

It was a barbless hook.

Through play and fight, there was always that jeer,

you were so blithe to how you hurt me.

Might be why you tore loose.

You left me alone on that pier;

Heart, soul, hands and basket empty.

It was a barbless hook.

Might be why you tore loose.

—AEW 23/05/2017

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Haiku: Integrity 

Clouds crawl across sky,

Willow whips in wilful woe;

But I just stand still.
— by A.E. Wallace 


The Daze of Days Boxed Up

Do not fit me in your box;

That box of how life is supposed to be —

That box is not for me.
Many a box up in the loft–

Dusty pages, faded photos, old coats,

Boxes filled with forgotten notes.
Your space is full of box.

A box fortress life.

Yet your head is full of strife.
Only this box full of my things,

One I brought over the sea

I will carry out and be free.

–by A. E. Wallace 


Haiku Number 9

Transendental sighs,

Light years separate our hearts.

Tomorrow is now. 

–AEW


Haiku: An Answer

​Might be I love him;

The seasons turn so often.

Best not to question.

By A.E.W


Poem 20.10.16

Keep submitting no matter what…

“I keep believing 

Rejection is not death.”


On The Brink– Poem

 Under Pressure

Under Pressure

Two stars

in binary dance

competing for centre–

cancelling life around us–

isolating

ourselves

to our own

fiery company,

A.E.W


The Challenge– A Sonnet

The Challenge

Little girls in summer white dresses–

Fairies at play in bright light of noon—

Soapy bubbles float to pop on sunglasses,

as I sit in the garden where turtle doves croon.

Too many years wasted cutting back weeds–

Investing my time tilling good soil into poor dirt–

bearing insult as birds pecked new seeds–

avoiding wasp sting through my thin shirt.

Peace now though the dog still barks in his kennel;

but he is nothing to think about now.

I am safe amid chrysanthemum and fennel;

He is old and leaving me, anyhow.

Soon, I will be like my fairies that play

with no other thought than to blow my bubbles far away.

By A.E. Wallace

Old Ollerton, Nottinghamshire at the teashouse

Old Ollerton, Nottinghamshire at the teahouse


Haiku: Upon Reading Great Poetry

The spoon taps crystal.
Pray silence  for the poet!
Raise glass to our truth.

By AE Wallace

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