Today, outside, is a new room

An old poem about a new room. ‘To The Valleys‘ offers a similar opening and thwarted journey to domestic encasement. — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuill Books

we tried to love the symphony seldom played

From the archive, a poem about playing in an orchestra. If recollection serves me correctly, we may have been rehearsing a seldom performed Tchaikovsky symphony. My ongoing relationship with music has also inspired: And a – a poem with a boogie woogie beat Nightstar of Sirius – written during a jazz concert We stayed up late and

Star of Sirius, lapping Star of Sirius

Yesterday my poem “And a” was inspired by a CD of The Best of Boogie Woogie. Quite coincidentally, on June 3rd last year I posted a poem I’d written many years ago in response to a piece at a jazz concert. Music has long been a source of great enrichment in my life. Playing in amateur

A New Room

Yonder far o’er vale and glen whereto grooms return and bread is leaven. This is another country. Today, outside, is a new room in which five builders, tiered upon scaffolding, cannot hear All Blues. This is no time for saxophone wails. Stand at the window and look out on the fresh planks. The backdrop: bared

Night-Star of Sirius, Eastern Cape

With light that is brown between the toes and shines on the river banks, it twinkles in the sunlight. Star of Sirius, lapping Star of Sirius, life star, watery star carrying children over your tide swaying rushes embracing fish holding frogs Star of Sirius. Night-star of Sirius twinkling in the sunlight, carrying promise. Grahamstown, 2008

If Turtles Listened to Jazz

If you were a turtle lady and you loved a turtle man It would not be odd in turtle-land if you had known the waves four hundred years and he another sixty-one; or he knew the beach for twenty, you the sand for forty-six; you each lost your turtle-hatchlings in the week you turned and