Archives for posts with tag: heating
Image courtesy of the Old Design Shop.

Image courtesy of the Old Design Shop.

The dark encroaches earlier and the temperatures drop. September heralds autumnal change. This time last year I was already battening down by spending more evenings in with the creaking heating, baking and feeling the quiet life.

adroit, adept, conker,
weary boeuf and stew.
The nights are closing in;
the mushrooms sprouting
      on their monopeds.

The pipes are closing in
with nights re-wakening with heating.


Here above, some words combined at the end of September last year as autumn brought in a change of light, of taste preferences, of colours and of temperature. Autumn brings in earlier darkness, fallings conkers, longed for comforting stews and a weariness at the thought of the long winter ahead. Sylvia Plath’s poem always comes to mind when the mushrooms make their seasonal appearance. I see the little fungi relishing the increased dampness in the soil and the dank of darker mornings in self-fuelling ways I simply envy.

Twitter: @BeadedQuill
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Books:
Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys and Shining in Brightness

There is exercise in

the rooted words. Knead! Knead!

Glance, the rooted words

are closing in.

About the even’ shift

the sprouting pipes creak thin their heat –

a flailing dance of

conker-burst  – Knead! Knead!

The Beautiful Life is different.

This poem is part of a current project to write two poems a week for 52 weeks. The aim is to create a pool of 104 poems and prove that if one writes enough poems some gems will surely result.

In the interim, preview here my first volume of poems published earlier this year.

Follow me on Twitter as @BeadedQuill. I comment on whatever passes through my day – which includes poetry and art.

Black coats, black pavements, black umbrellas, the rain
Nights black by 20:00. Achoos in the office.
Splutters on the train. Time to switch on the heating and
buy doughnuts in the morning. There has sprung the winter hunger
and it will only grow

On the 19th September 1819, John Keats wrote this lilting ode ‘To Autumn.‘ Images of his autumn’s fruitful harvest jarred with my Thursday of cold snap, rain and ubiquitous black umbrellas.

Follow me on Twitter where I tweet as @BeadedQuill.

Preview my first volume, SHINING IN BRIGHTNESS, here, It includes poems selected from twelve years’ worth of writing in South America, the USA, South Africa and Europe.