Words fall on fertile ground, blossoming midsummer dreams or sprouting mares of thorn and bane. While the poet’s pendulum swings, chimera of the mind whips whirring wings of fantasy into comedy, romance and tragedy, borne on feathered quill to make of what you will. Kim M. Russell, 2017 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille […]
Day: August 14, 2017
At Cley…
a sigh of seeding grasses purple-mists the marshes where sea touches shingle with a salty, osculating tingle. Flagrantly expansive August sky – empty of birds but clouds sail by – breathes sun-warmed rusty seaweed, samphire and yellow agrimony, and then blows harder in an attempt to float a sea-loving, pebble-beached boat. Kim M. Russell, 2017
Higgledy-piggledy
In the labyrinthine malformed lanes and backstreets of imagination, dead-reckoning never takes me north, south, east or west, but always looks left, to the sinister side of my brain. Blindfolded by the torn curtain of fantasy, I press on in my wanderings, and my gait cannot help but feign a gritty, natural inclination to embed […]
writing in north norfolk 