They had slept through storms before

January brought with it a blizzard. Icy darts aimed for our knees and the testing froze our sense of belonging to that land. The old bears sunk deeper in their caves, groaned and turned their backs on winter’s sluice trusting that in time from it would flow all the blooms of spring. 31/12/14 — IContinue reading “They had slept through storms before”

All through this lodging there is hardly a clatter

“A quiet night preludes the festivities” nods to the classic “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.” — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuill Books: In the Ocean: a year of poetry Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys Shining in Brightness: Selected Poems, 1999 – 2012

Something for you –

“Another drop in this week before Christmas” is a companion piece to “Without realising it the postman leaves a poem.” — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuill Books: In the Ocean: a year of poetry Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys Shining in Brightness: Selected Poems, 1999 – 2012

The postman leaves a poem

Today’s piece from the archive is “Without realising it, the postman left a poem.” It was a great delight last year when I composed this poem from the postman’s pre-Christmas visits. This year eight cards have made their way through the door, but I am still waiting for a verse. — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuillContinue reading “The postman leaves a poem”

The ruler has been on a raft

Operations Meeting, El Dorado always makes me smile because it juxtaposes the mundane with the historical and fantastical. An office meeting, overheard during a morning coffee, is recast in an imaginary Ancient Columbia and overlaid with the myth of El Dorado. — About the photographed Muisca raft: This representation of the initiation of the newContinue reading “The ruler has been on a raft”

The call home

The tides of tomorrow and tomorrow and the next tomorrow sweep into crevices of shored shells. The waves nudge these hollows of yesterday’s habitat into the barrels of tomorrow, tomorrow and the next tomorrow. There the shored shells break with tomorrow, tomorrow and another tomorrow dashed to granules that lip the tideline. Salted foam seepsContinue reading “The call home”

the rains trigger migration of hartebeests in cravats

“To the Valleys” describes the return of hard-working hartebeests who hope to woo brides back in their home village. I wrote this poem last year after “I do. Do you?” another imagined narrative about a wedding that did not come to pass. — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuill Books available through BeadedQuill’s Blurb Bookshop

When Achilles’ Heart Ripens

Worn on the sleeve or exposed at the heel, once the organ has surfaced it is ready to bleed. Transfusion will occur. — Following on from my experiment earlier this week with clichés, today’s verse explores idioms. It is also influenced by my current read – an engrossing book about ancient Rome and Jerusalem, in whichContinue reading “When Achilles’ Heart Ripens”

A bicycle made for two (or, The Pitch)

While it’s going for a song, let’s play this dalliance. It’ll knock wind from our sails. That’s the hazard of entanglements. — Over the weekend I watched a movie about a song-writer. Many of the songs featured dreadful clichés. This prompted some fiddling of my own with clichés. The poem’s title is thanks to anContinue reading “A bicycle made for two (or, The Pitch)”