Poem written by Greenwood Hopewell, MA.

Photo by Loe Moshkovska on

~1 min read.

21st May, 2019

Our feet stick because we are stuck to the ground

A reminder to humanity that we are family

Tiny pieces of energy moving across a single platform we call Earth

The occasional leap towards the outer edge

And the ability to lift ourselves against a force that takes us back to where we belong

We can never leave because this is our home

We belong in the living room of life

Sharing our table with every other living creature

As we grow and wither

And remain

The earth absorbs us into its core

So that we become the ground

As we walk, we stick, our feet stuck to the ground

Like solid particles preparing to dance the final waltz

We play music

We close our eyes to the sweetest melody as it drifts across the earth

And we stay

Holding hands through an invisible force that binds us together

Because someday we will walk across an open field and look up to the sky

As we open the human windows on the place we call home



See The Children’s Faces

A poem by Greenwood Hopewell, MA.

Photo by Pixabay on

~1 min read.

21st May 2019

See the children’s faces as they wonder through the snow

The innocence of childhood that adults used to know

Little footprints everywhere, the children they just play

They don’t feel the bitter cold or see a winters day

Instead they run along the ground with snowballs in their hands

Throwing them at passers by then watching as they land

Little fingers cold as ice and fingers glowing red

As Mother cries “Come on children, come inside, it’s time to go to bed!”.

See the children’s faces as they wake on Christmas day

Seeing all their presents brought by Rudolf on his sleigh

The magic as they shout, “Mom, Dad! He’s been!”

To adults it’s another day, to children it’s a dream

See the children’s faces and just look at what we miss

By seeing life as anything except for what it is

Written 2008.



TALENT (What is talent?)

Photo by Pedro Gomes on

Written by Greenwood Hopewell, MA

~1 min read

21st May, 2019


The mornings I ran in the rain


The days when I did it again


The failure that knocked at my door


The times when I did it once more


The desire to never give up


The smile I wear without luck


The thing they all said I had


I told them, ‘you’re all bloomin’ mad!’


Is just an illusion at best


Is just a personal test






A Poem Of Love

Photo by Pixabay on

Written by Greenwood Hopewell, MA

Poem written: 3rd March, 2009

~1 min read

There’s nothing much greater than feeling in love

Your heart starts to glow like a flower in the sun

The rush of excitement like spring in the air

A light headed feeling that’s constantly there

There’s nothing much greater than feeling in love

The new found desire of passion and fun

But one day when all that comes to an end

And all you can do is start to pretend

You realise that something is greater than that

When you love someone truly

Through good and through bad

My Cat

Photo by Tranmautritam on

By Greenwood Hopewell, MA

Written: 15th January, 2009

~1 min read

My cat is a greedy cat

Who slurps his milk and chases rats

He wears a grin from ear to ear

And waits to eat his favourite meal

Of finest beef from Sid the butcher

He wouldn’t dare touch any other

And would cry until I fill his plate

With medium rare home cooked steak

My cat is a greedy cat

But very in particular

He likes his pork cut up nicely

A little pepper, not too spicy

He turns his nose up at sardines

That come out of a tin

Instead I have to cook them fresh

And add a little lemon zest

My cat is a greedy cat

He eats just like a king

And meows at night as if to say

I couldn’t eat a thing

A World Made For Us

Photo by Porapak Apichodilok on

Poem by Greenwood Hopewell, MA

Poem written 14th January, 2009

~1 min read

Little specs of dust, all whirling around

On a big giant ball, where they stick to the ground

They see what they see, and not a lot more

Like a goldfish swimming round in a big shiny ball

That only sees patterns and colourful shapes

As those specs of dust start feeding them flakes

Little specs of dust that work through the night

As a way to survive in this thing they call life

Searching and searching to find something new

Like the hamster that runs on its wheel, yes it’s true

That maybe, just maybe the world is our cage

And we have a keeper that feeds us the same

That gives us the water and things that we need

And sends us the weather to help keep us clean

Little specs of dust that sleep through the night

And wait until dawn when someone turns on the light

As they open their eyes to see what they see

A world made by God just for you and for me

Poetry Is The Imagery Of Every Human Soul

ByPhoto by Jackson David on

Written by Greenwood Hopewell, MA

3rd October, 2019

~1 min read

Poetry is the imagery of every human soul
A reflection in the mirror
The thing that makes us whole
A genuine portrayal of something deep within
The thoughts that mull around the head
And dance beneath the skin
A poem tells a story from a single point of view
Yet touches all humanity with words that speak the truth