Cleveland W. Gibson

Cleveland W. Gibson Poems

The day I saw the Unicorn
was like the day my
precious baby was born. I
remember the scintillating
...

Gypsy Rhonda from Wales, eyes
as black as coal, looked into the
Parson's soul. She warned: “Sky
is red, sea is blue, beware of
...

Within the town of Wootton Bassett sadness showed, as I
froze to watch the funeral cortège pass me, and every dog
in the crowd with more than a moist eye. As the bell began
its solemn toll, the clang tore me apart, so in tribute I
...

To the eternal rhythm of the Copper Kettle
drum, Bom, Bom. Bom, I heard the men
run, their fears always there, aflying
ahead. How not to see their wounds? Or
...

I am haunted by the sound of mandolins
that sing out against the waves of the
sea. I'm new to the scene and what
happens as those mandolins scream out
...

Wise men told how it came to pass,
St. Anthony strolled through fields of grass.
To him the tiger said with a ferocious grin,
Hairy lips quivered on a double chin.
...

As a boy, I said, I wished we
kids might ride upon our
rocking horses for the rest of
our lives. My wish came true to
...

You sit in the surreal
garden of your mind,
watching the epic
sky. But you never
...

There was a girl called
Jill, she lived with
brother Jack, on a
beautiful Hill. But the hill
...

As I grow old I notice
the days talk to me. All
stand for good times
yet some need
...

11.

On the Golden Beach, without a care, I saw the divine Goddess with sunlight shining in her long, blonde hair.

She brushed the sand from off her feet, flip-flopped past me into the street to buy a ball from a market stall, and then, back she danced to a hard rock beat.
...

A stirring feeling grips me, there is a quickening of pace, I look to the East, to the West to see the splendour, the face of Mankind in unity and hope we all must trust, all linked by will, as the faintest breeze retreats like a ghostly dust.

St George’s heart ever beats through the land loud and clear. Harken! Listen to the drum; it captures our hope, our deepest dread, and fear.
...

Oh! Cotswolds, your charm shows. You, I first
met for moments only twenty years ago.
Forever after rambling upon your earthy body
delights my London City mind to forge with you
...

In bed,
On a silent night,
no whisper I hear,
as inward my mind
...

When I'm so alone,
I think of sweet home,
And crawl into my head.
...

As stars twinkled tonight,
sweet angels sang so clear,
wonder, this holy night,
the boy child born, my dear.
...

I heard this song on my way to Babylon, it's where I pray, few yards not miles away. Then
in a village small I saw a tall tree offering shade to all.
There I thought of things to lose. Perhaps bad luck...evil people and Deep South Blues.
Now inside a cemetery something stirred, came to life as music drifted out from the circle
...

I am a hunter in the city. I creep, I walk,
I run. Thro' the night I look out for
tossed litter in the many streets so
silent to put right.
...

One day in June, if the facts are known,
or was it that the myths have grown
about you see what lay in the sky on
view to all 'till the day we die.
...

The Best Poem Of Cleveland W. Gibson

Night Of The Unicorn

The day I saw the Unicorn
was like the day my
precious baby was born. I
remember the scintillating
sound of bells, the snow in
summer (yes) on the
breeze, and how the trees
whispered 'good luck' to us
all across an ocean and a
thousand bucking seas.
The Unicorn wandered one
night into my garden filled
with moonlight bright,
and it caused the flowers
to show their love of the
softest of creatures I
know: Dill went waving and
the wild flowers said with
strange sound of cathedral
bells. But why did it come
to my garden small, to see
me I thought with delight.
And when the Moon
beamed and gave me a
wink, then I knew it was
God's plan, at least that's
what I think. If when it
happens do please pause
to say a prayer, expect
good things from God. Well
He is always there.Friend.

Cleveland W. Gibson Comments

Charity Nduhiu 15 July 2014

wow such a nice poem Gibson. Keep up

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Cleveland W. Gibson Quotes

Don't wait for Blue Skies in the morning: start your planning now.

Don't take it for granted that Heroes don't cry: they do because they are human, like us.

Heaven must be good: nobody comes back here.

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