Now, to – I must address

The speaker of “An address from a lectern” is, in my writer-narrator’s mind, a young woman from the Eastern Cape. From the poem itself, I guess it would be difficult to deduce as much – and that she is presenting to an audience in London. I wished to find a woman speaking from a lectern as the accompanying

In preparation

In preparation           for life’s many little pageants We brush out our hair, cut the dry, split ends, straighten out the frizz. We lather up our legs and smooth out the bristle. We take concealer to those rings beneath our tired eyes and layer over the unhappy spots. We tint tiny

Nos Liberavit

Bell-like, round and clear Hopeful and transparent as a copper bauble, it lifts the congregation. From the sanctuary the maiden’s voice soars and plunges as she elongates the siren call.   — I am not a groupie. I’d rather spend my days in a hermit’s hut on a mountainside with books, green tea and yoga

Advice for Love Chess

When I first posted this poem, it elicited some strong responses. “Blatant manipulation. Far better to say what you mean.” Ah! Love chess. — This poem, along with 24 others about life, love and the modern boy, are collected in my book Emily’s Poem for Modern Boys.

Ask the Poet

In response to the questions often posed to me about my writing, I have decided to introduce a new feature on my blog: Please explain… Send in your questions about a particular poem, a running theme or even a line that puzzles you. If you’re curious about the creative process behind a poem’s existence, you may

Just Punishment

Little Knowing, a lonely desert bird, was small and light of wing. Along the road he saw a woman. She smelled of cinnamon. “My bed,” she said, “smells of more – of myrrh and desert aloes. It is richly covered, soft – and ours – in colourful Egyptian linen.” Little knowing saw the tent to