Cast them together

Words cast spells through the magic that is poetry. Here is today’s verse: Cast them together A bra, a bit, cad bitty, a bra, bo bitty boo: read the magic these words spell for you. — Twitter: @BeadedQuill Facebook: BeadedQuill Books: In the Ocean: a year of poetry Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys Shining in

Poems from the Past

Five poems posted on the blog this time last year. You may even have read some of these before. Which one made the strongest impression on you? And why? Write your comment below. It’d be lovely to hear from you!

Baby arrived in the post

The real, hard copy of my latest book arrived on my doormat this morning. With 132 pages, she makes quite a substantial volume. My babies are getting bigger. (Click the image to preview “In the Ocean” for yourself.)

Poem 104

Escucha My new muse is light in his visits, is late, never calls, smiles his cheek, tells me nothing. So I invent everything. My new muse wears white-soled trainers and a St. Christopher tucked against the tattoo, never seen in full. When the night begins, the muse’s t-shirt smells of clean laundry. My new muse

I was born of poetry

For World Poetry Day last year I wrote out the fanciful myth I have constructed about how poetry precipitated my birth.

Interior Holdings

A turn to the inside, draws out liquorice laces, long and sweet to suck and chew; This turn to the inside locates in other corners of the paper-layered drawer small tacks of past stings — Scheduling a poem every day for a month (from 18 Jan. to 19 Feb.) made me feel impressively productive. Now

There’s been a gap in your bookshelf for a year

Since this time last year, my first volume of poems has been available for purchase. You can preview both Shining in Brightness and my second book, Emily’s Poems for Modern Boys, at my Blurb Bookshop. Both books are available in hardcover and softcover. I’m sure you’d like to fill that gap in your bookshelf.

A little bird revisits

“The hummingbird stands for love” remains one of my favourite poems. In this Vermeer-style scene, I see a young woman at the window of a Dutch interior. She is bathed in light. In my version, she holds open a book or a letter, but gazes at the window. The opulent curtains and tasteful furnishings draw my eye.

How do you make a dream come true?

1. Wake up. Work hard. Plan and strategise. Talk to someone who has done it before. Find a mentor. 2. Protect its pollen from the wind. Blow on the quills when they erupt. Wrap it in this moment and suspend it from but what if? It might rest its weary hope in a chest of

Nice Words #2

lampent skylark heartsmile aslant rarified eye-strings fealty askance — If you’re a regular follower, you’ve read three poems of emotional intensity over the last three days’ posts: Glomerulonephritis Dying is probably easier than this and The Age Show. With this in mind, and given that it is Saturday, today’s poem is a light and breezy