An update

I’ll get ‘round to sending you word about this dream I had again about the house that’s under renovation. When it’s finished I know you’ll love the surprise. The bathroom’s to be re-tiled. The kitchen redone. A loft floor inserted in the roof. With all the interconnected doors there are so many people moving inContinue reading “An update”

Three poems to end the year

i 8:58PM write poems x1 x1 x1 I wrote on my week’s to-dos. It’s 8:58PM on SUNDAY. The radiator’s cranking up; Counting down to the bedtime routine. This isn’t a poem: it’s a snapshot. ii. write poems x1 x1 The idea was to help me See each output as a ‘1’; As a single entityContinue reading “Three poems to end the year”

Another short story

ScrapsYard.com | Congratulations | Forward this Picture Here is another short story completed for the exercise of completion. This tale developed in response to a balloon in a florist’s van. I’m also love to hear your ideas for story prompts. Please share them with me by dropping a line below. Hand-tie Harry arrives at 11amContinue reading “Another short story”

Listen to me, you golden beauty

Livelihood If you were a beast and it was May, I would say Listen to me, you golden beauty, we must walk through those flames. Do not fear. Shhh, calm, calm your hooves. Calm your trample, trampling. Look at me. With my hands to the muzzle I lead the prosperity of my summer yield, garlandedContinue reading “Listen to me, you golden beauty”

I try to revive a blue whale

I wrote about whales last week in “Ulterior Motives.” It’s odd then that this time last year I posted “In the ocean one night,” a poem about whales that I had transcribed directly from a dream. Yes, I kid you not. This was one of my genuine, vivid sleep-time dreams. The poem inspired the titleContinue reading “I try to revive a blue whale”

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”

Pictures in the sky

“An Artist Works” was inspired by Constable’s cloud study dated ‘evening, 31 August 1822’. The English painter produced these close observations of the skies during 1821 and 1822 in Hampstead, North London where he spent his summers in the early 1820s.

Without a word

Interestinggg, my muse of the nimble-feet that you decided to delete the last cord of our communication: a cue of ‘moving on’ or sullen irritation? Interestinggg, my fascination locus, that whatever swung your focus – “in some shit” you did mention – erased your previous courteous attention. You didn’t say good-bye; you neglected an adieu.Continue reading “Without a word”

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”

look – really look

I will be 80 this year here in my flat only a mile and a half from where I was born. I have tried to lead by example, by plunging my narrow balcony into the principality of hanging gardens. Concrete is brutal. It needs softening. Plants should have dominion. We breakfast amidst the crisp verdureContinue reading “look – really look”