With

With is not a wordto end a sentence,or so they taught usat school. With is not correctwhen it is usedcome withwent withcame withwas with,this withering wordthat withoutcannot exist.Let’s go withwithin, wherewithal,forthwith, notwithstanding. —‘Creative writing rules’ from my school days still to echo in my head. The teachers’ warnings against starting a sentence with ‘and’ orContinue reading “With”

plant this great choice in height and spread

Plant asters by autumn When all else fades, semi-trailing heath comes into its own. In banks and borders snow-petalled asters make a brilliant ground cover. Shimmering their heads: a butterfly magnet in the wildlife garden’s banks and borders. Plant this by autumn, plant this great choice in height and spread before the winter turns. –Continue reading “plant this great choice in height and spread”

Supportasse Boughs

Supportasse Boughs The blossoms have come! The blossoms are here. On parade, white ruffs of spring’s courtiers. 24/3/2015 — Today I present the second of the two poems about spring blossoms. These lines, indeed like those of “March Burst” (posted last week) and many of my ‘sushi’ poems, owes a debt to Ezra Pound’s “InContinue reading “Supportasse Boughs”

Ulterior motives

It was very suspicious the way that whale rolled over and opened its mouth for tips, then set fireworks to the water gods from its blowhole. — Whales have featured in my poetry before. Like sluice gates and bears, whales prefigure as a childhood fascination. In my first or second year of school, we learntContinue reading “Ulterior motives”

That Missing Something

There’s something in the blueberries that my body needs. It might be the blue citric blue in its vitamin skin. It might be the tray of pebbles on a shelf in my ‘fridge. There’s something blue that’s missing from my body. Even a doctor advises that something’s in the berries. blue. — It could beContinue reading “That Missing Something”

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

Wild horses fling their thoughts

I love this poem – “Wild Horses Don’t Break” – so very much. To date it is one of the poems I’d be happy to have on my gravestone. Not that I like the idea of being buried in a cramped plot. Fling my ashes to the dunes and the sea! The wild horses ofContinue reading “Wild horses fling their thoughts”

Lettered objects finely wrought

I did not set out to write poetry. I intended to write Novels. And anyway, I am of the view that much superbly written and evocative poetry already exists. The Shadows of Giants loom large. At the moment I have no illusion about even coming close to their kneecaps, never mind shoulders. This time last yearContinue reading “Lettered objects finely wrought”

Proper Poetry

The beam of a true poem balances when each pan hovers with just right the weight. A real poem contains rhyme; Each line leads us to a prediction. — When I was at junior school, it was the end-of-term duty of the girls in the highest class, Standard 5, to gather news from each year.Continue reading “Proper Poetry”