Please take a look at some of my poems.

The March of War

Hearts of so many filled with dread
The women back at home,
The men whose friend’s are now
Ongoing marches of the men who tread
Following footsteps of ghosts of the past.
Darkness encases the men in the line
Slowly one by one they fall behind
Stumbling, tripping, desperate for rest
These are the actions of the men doomed to death
But we’ve been told to go on.
That course of action is best.
The sludge beneath our feet gets deeper
Slowly mud and blood become one
Weighing our bodies down into a tonne.
We carry on further,
Suddenly an explosion from a nearby trench,
Sending young boys who were committed
Serving their Country
Now blown into the air.
A point of no return
Their bodies land on the ground with a thud
Tossed aside like broken toys
Human waste to a barren land,
Enough to make even the most civil men wretch.
We carry on still,
Those of us who are left
Stepping over dead corpses,
Dead memories and imprisoned souls
The boys of our future lay buried beneath us,
Stuck in No Man’s Land,
We can do nothing to help.
Michelle Lloyd


“You joining up?” Asked the man of the boy
“Still too young. Had to lie.”
Came the youthful, happy reply.
“Ready to fight? To give your all?”
“Yes Sir.”
The boy smiled broadly and pulled himself up tall.
“T’is a grand thing to fight for your Country my boy.”
“Aye I’ll make my family proud.”
Said the boy with triumphant tone aloud.
Lying bloody and torn.
Trenches exploding all around.
The boy now feeling scared and forlorn.
“Never mind old mate, old son.”
The face haunted him in his gun shattered dreams
“You’ve done your bit. You’ll remember this day
When your Country has Won.”
Michelle Lloyd

Angels that Wept

Angels that wept
Their sorrows are lost
Their pain all forgotten
To a far away place.
Hurt and anguish
Strain and sacrifice
All swept away by the storms of the fall
Love everlasting cherubs maintain
Peace united by all
Take over the freedom
Linking an unknown life force
To the earthly terrains
A life force yet to be introduced
Fused to the race of mankind.
Michelle Lloyd


Ominous dark filled alleyways haunt my inner soul
Distant pairs of footsteps march their way down deserted streets
Anguish tainted fears threaten to take their toll
Heart beat racing, sweat formed on my brow
Looking through passing windows
Happy, lively cheery homes; look at them all now
Vibrant luminous street lights, glowing in the dark
Gigantic factory buildings now empty
Looming up like monsters from the deep, all so very stark.
Flicking back through memories of what used to be
I walk on, heading back into the safety of my home
The crowds and noise Civilisation.
Michelle Lloyd

The Pencil

A long piece of wood with a sharp pointed edge
Good for marking off work, or making a pledge
A pencil mark
So fragile and yet so forceful, it strikes like a spark
A symbolic match
Slow burning of creativity, emotion and past
This time it could be temporary, or permanent, even go on to last
Etching down thoughts and scribbles of the mind
A useful tool
A stick of lead
Eases some people’s souls as they write their diaries before going to bed
Leaving behind distant times, the echoes of the tree which bore you
A blot, a stain, a mark on the paper of life
Working man’s object and child’s favourite too
Don’t be fooled, this little reminder can be rubbed away
Wiped from the mind like a distant thought
To clear a mistake, or hide a secret!
A message can be jotted or a full blown sketch bought
A true representation of nature or something drawn straight from the imagination
The pencil captures inspiration
A second, a minute in time, which can never be replaced
Helps a child form their first word
So precious, staining paper even in waste
This thin slight object, practically radiates from your every side,
To think you were at first, formed from the body of a tree.
Michelle Lloyd


Standing alone on a corner street
The shapes
People are merely figures of the past
Wistful memories you hope will last
Pain overtakes the joy of yesterday
Cries in the dark persist day after day.
Cold, hard pavement slabs
A place to rest a weary head.
The unforgiving cars rush by
Faces look on without interest.
You see it everyday, you say
You don’t want to care,
You have too much to cope with
Don’t lie.
I know you think it each and every day.
I know all this.
I have tried to pay
To give my due to this society.
I fought so hard
A debt I paid
Yet still they mount like nightmares.
I did my all
Look at me now
Lying crumpled against a wall.
A sad pitiful shape
A figure alone
You know I look on
Without hope
At this dismal abode.
I pass school buildings
You look away
Shame is not something I fear
I gave that up long ago.
Ghosts we are.
Dark shapes which pass together on the street
Forgetting the past
Blanking out the future.
The grey concrete my only home
A place to rest a weary bone.
Michelle Lloyd


Wordsworth, Byron and Keats
Great pillars of literature
Friend or foe?
Words trace out your past
I follow the poems with my index finger.
I look through the numerous pages,
An intricate lace of emotion and love.
Lecture halls fill to hear the echoes
The interpretation of your every word
Brains desperate to unlock the key
To be a founder of your wistful musings.
Clever young minds
Quick to work out a pattern
This is Hyperbolic, allusion, a matter to inquire
I wonder sometimes, what you all would make of this?
Poets of times gone by
Found you did with hidden eye
The beauty in the world around us.
Nature, a true Mother nurturer
Of regenerating plants and life.
Creator of strife and yet
Bearer of a gentle, beautiful life.
Wordsworth, Byron and Keats
Your lives we hold in these very sheets
Evidence of your presence and thinking
In this very world of ours.
Michelle Lloyd


Blood, grime, dirt, sorrow and rage fuelled pain
The land soiled, strewn with forgotten bloody battles
Cries of anguish filled the air, precious life blood drained
Sorrow tainted fields of by gone youth
Trespassed by souls, wandering dreams of cherished home,
Lost once again for ever and a day
Memories of defiance, blood and gore,
Years passed with the speed of changing seasons
Birds fly over head with grace and longed for ease
Crops now Grow to feed the ever increasing nation,
Children play where no man dared to go,
Unity reigns instead of dread bared hate
A single rain drop plops into the ground
From which springs forth the eternal ray of desired hope.
Shock, awe, bombs of war, fill the earth with pregnant dread
The land soiled, mauled, left to rot
This is the memory of that doomed lot.
Bombs went off on that fateful a day
Oh how memories fade away.
Images of blood, sweat and gore,
Youthful faces with bravery they wore.
White knights on chargers, cavalry to save the day
Time moves on like an exert from a film.
All too soon grass grows over the scarlet stains
Nothing ever stays the same, and how long
People go on never knowing the truth.
New hope forms, days live on with aspirations
The dove of peace strives to unite a divided nation
Hope trickles back into our lives.
Michelle Lloyd

Bird: Amazing Creature of Nature

The bird soared high
Wings spread wide an almost human like sigh
The body glistening with beads of water
Never would such a creature alter
Easing quickly over land
Height and speed doth rapidly expand
Flying with beauty and grace
Gradual increase seen in pace
People and creatures far below
Watching this fantastic awe inspired show
A display of talent and skill
Swooping low in a mark of determined pure free will
Unadulterated creature of land
Humanity doth bow down to one true divine hand
Michelle Lloyd

Comparisons of the beating heart

As one single dove makes a single desperate
Through the iron clad bars of a cadge now bent
Out of shape
The door now open.
It’s for its one true love it glides,
Searching for its one soul mate.
Soaring over chaotic traffic
Fumes of darkness rise up to defeat
The little bird flies on
One impatient for relief.
The smog filled air hovering beyond industries
Mirror the tall grey buildings
Which they top from above
Sounds so disturbing
Rise up and startle the little white dart
Noise of the town taking over
From the street.
Can this bird with outstretched wings locate
The bird for which there is a beating heart?
A heart still beating.
This bird looks down and sees
Clouds of cloying smoke covering the trees
What once was such a wonderful place
Looked so shabby, so out of synch
With the beautiful countryside beyond.
Will that bird abide by the laws of his heart,
Or will the sometimes cruel laws of nature,
That same force which gives life,
Govern that this bird should not locate
Another of his own natural kind.
His only true mate.
An intricate masterpiece of art,
Like rich, velvet colours drawn straight from the heart
As one and through the languid tones of a distant and forbidden love.
To take the form of Keats letters
Passions subside
Give way to the gloom of the waning tide.
The stark busy roads of the town run below
Man made vehicles roar like monsters
All to hunt a little prey
The heart does flutter to think of them there
Chugging past
How the little bird wished it would pass.
Flying on the scene does radiate
People shouting in the nearby landscape
The little bird does pause for breath
However rubbish is thrown, chip wrappers
and fish stained take out plates
Progress towards him at an alarming rate.
Too close, he takes flight.
Under the careful guidance of some angelic
Force this bird moves on
Keeps flying to a better place
Make haste, this bird does think
As he leaves the roar of that suburban state.
The greens and vivid sun shine highlights
A clear path for the white soul to follow.
All too soon roaring motorways give way to a much more rugged landscape.
Calm reignites as peace is restored
The fields offering shelter in a world much changed.
Grass verges and tall trees
Hide the little dove from the winter breeze.
As morning dawns so this little bird wakes
To see the world in its glory
All is not too late.
Michelle Lloyd

A wife’s memory

A single prayer for a soldier lost
Another life paid as human cost.
It seems like only yesterday,
Running bare foot through the hills,
Free and easy rout to that longed for beach
To sooth a soul in the lapping tides of the bay.
We were a couple;
Our love so fresh, youthful and supple.
An almost living thing
Our love had become our only kin
No other family of which to speak
Secrets of the other we did keep.
A union made, a friendship tied
A love which any mortal
Would find hard to hide.
Many folk say “Remembrance is the key”
However now what good, what purpose would
It serve for me.
My skin is altered by time
Memories lie within.
To look at your face
Through some faded black and white photo
Prolongs the agony of your distant life
A memory that was never free of trouble or strife
But was still so dear to me.
You never had much, it is true to say
Never much money, or riches, or materialistic wealth.
But you did have something far more important for me,
A thing that keep us warm on the darkest of eve.
You knew the value of support for a friend,
The most broken down relationship you were able to mend
Problems were never there to stand in your way
You paid a high price.
Oh you paid a high price.
“Inspiration” you once said was the way,
It never made much sense for me,
However to you, well it kept you alive.
In a way peace and short lived thrills were vital for you to survive.
Persistence, a quality which always made you
Take the hard way out
A characteristic that would often drive me to tears
I suppose it was what made you fight to the end
A common quality shared by so many men.
Michelle Lloyd

Ambitious Youth

Our hopes and expectations
Black holes and revelations
Lives shift, alter and fade
Ambitions falter,
Drip, drip away like a leaking tap
Drop, Splish, splash… Splosh!
Ever learning, far stretching scope
Children, noting and sometimes acting
Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day
Shall I…Shall I compare the beauty to the decay
Of life’s strains.
How the glory ebbs away.
Stop that tap. Build on the potential.
Yet then on second glance
Blink and you will see
How the long days accumulate.
Children grow, rapid to make their mark
Building on hopes and driven by
The burning flame of desired goals.
Fanning thoughts…
War is Peace; Freedom is slowery; ignorance is strength
Motifs all born through society
Question, agree or disagree…
Layer laid on layer like a builder with his trowel,
Helping to advance the wall of civilised youth
Central conceits which attribute to humanity.
Michelle Lloyd