poetdoesarun
Oh what cruel irony that star gazer wroughtWhen tracing lines with his eye and caughtThat side way scuttling creature of the seaAnd a homemaker of the sandy shore.Born under those stars, astrologers agreeMeans family first and bonds restore.If then a nurturer and intuitively blessed,How cruel to name this star pattern thus.A fearful name, one thatContinue reading “Reading the Stars”
Based on Gerard Manley Hopkins poem – Pied Beauty Glory be to God for small things,Peanut butter spread thick and taking a bite;For furry friends that pull on a three mile run;Awake at dawn as the blackbird sings;For the white feathered egret lifting off in flight;Awaiting the first smile from a tiny one. For guffawsContinue reading “Blessings”
Into the waterwarm as bloodshe stepped,she lay,she crouchedon hands and knees.Belly full and tightstretched around the life within. This precious lifecreated from love.A piece of hersoon to beapart from her. Deep breaths,muffled groans,bearing down,a cloud of goreand Everything changedat her nativity.The cord that bound,sinewy and blue,throbbed with life.Emerging,lungs inflating,oxygen circulating. She breathed out a cryof separation,ofContinue reading “Everything Changed”
Wellingborough High StreetIs a cultural hotch-potWhere west and east meetIn a plethora of small shops. First in the pot, the take awayIndian bargees and vindaloo.A glut of shops shut in the dayOpening later for the nightclub queue. Hot Indian curries and shish kebabRub shoulders with a sleek nail bar.The night club windows looking drabNext toContinue reading “High Street Pantoum”
Confidently I pull on my suitThat tucks in my tumSmooths the linesWhile holding up my bum.This time I won’t be beatBy fears of drowning.I’ll swim the lengthSmiling not frowning. Into the water I step,Down the ladder and stand.Then my confidence seeps, til,I clutch the side with a shaking hand.I submerge my shoulders, not my hairAndContinue reading “Swimming not drowning.”
Sunlight sneaking through curtainsPromises a fine day – you liar. By mid-morningGrey clouds cover the sky,Blown in on angry windsThat toss the dry leaves this wayThen that – shut up. Fine drizzle wets my face,Unexpected, unwanted – piss off -Becomes a deluge, drenching the path,While the icy air makes me flinch. The wind that broughtContinue reading “January Blues”
In the middle of the rain soaked fieldSurrounded by hoof printed mud,Away from the bushes that shieldHim from the storm clouds that scud,Stands a young foal; is he depressed? His tail made heavy with burrIs unable to flick the flies that infestHis matted, mud splattered fur. His close cropped mane he once shook, Is now shortContinue reading “The Foal”
Out of bed before this January dawnI scattered food on the frost covered lawn.The stale crusts from week old breadAnd yesterday’s dumplings, heavy as lead.Onto the table the last of the log,Chocolaty rich; no good for the dog.Pouring fresh water in the concrete bowlWhile in the house, stirred not a soul.A fat ball with seeds,Continue reading “An invitation”
poet does a run 