Squeaky unoiled hinges Of swings in the park Sweaty breeze on the face Games in an idyllic noon A clang of metallic toy ponies Multi-hued flying frisbees Muddy barefoot squeals Merry-go-round treble Run and hide, hide and seek Playing till night descends Yes, freedom of innocence Long lost, yet dearly craved!
Poetry inspired by the book cover for Henry. E. Roscoe. Spectrum Analysis. London: MacMillan and Co, 1869 — Source.
Traveling unrestrained The vast wilderness Floating on clouds Making mistakes Capturing the bliss Of throwing care To the whistling winds That was meant to be Our universal destiny. But look at us now And all our messy lives Seeking happiness, In paper money Living in castles Built of dead trees On barren lands Failing to behold Nature that throbs With the power Of just being!
Poetry inspired by the book cover for F.A Pouchet. The Universe: The Infinitely Great and the Infinitely Little. 13th edition. London: Blackie & Son, ca. 1896 — Source.
In the labyrinths of silence I explore inner darkness In awe, I see the lines rusted Of rotting pain Etched on my heart By recollections deep Digging in like ridged shards Most painful are moments I try to, but I can’t recall They lie in the gloomy corners Smothered by macabre screams The ones I had muffled For I knew no one cared
Poetry inspired by the book cover for Edward J. Goodman. Too Curious. London; Guildford: Bentley & Son, 1888 — Source.
There was no way of telling What pleasures they find, Those who brew trouble Or live to contrive Stories that spark fear Or lies to make us tremor And how they find peace Lining deep pockets With the labor of others Yet, when we look around The smiles belong to those Who wouldn’t lend a dime Or spare a trifling thought For the sorrows they cause.
Poetry inspired by the book cover for Frederic Ingham. Ten Time One is Ten. Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1871 — Source.
When the last shadows fell I heaved a sigh of relief For the gloaming night Would soon be upon me I can cower and hide From the travails of life Bury my hopes again In layers of staid silence And hear the shaky rhythm Of my heart, reminding me I am still alive!
I dive into my anxious thoughts Almost sure I can’t face Demons that demand much From my spirit so frail Yet, my valiant soul whispers Tomorrow is set to arrive What if your Destiny Turns on its feet? Then you may not feel the need To run away from another Grueling, defeated day!
Poetry inspired by the book cover for Charles Kingsley. The Water Babies. London: Macmillan and Co., 1886 — Source.