I was never one for painting my lips red, although I sometimes fantasised in bed about a scarlet slash against white teeth tempting you to meld our lips and breath, a colourful seduction in a bed gone quiet. But then I realised that instead of a riot of thrashing limbs and pounding chests we both […]
Month: March 2020
The End of a Storm
It was the morning after a terrifying storm, and we were woken by the telephone in the very early hours. My husband was called in to secure tubes and sheets on scaffold, and to help tidy up the very large gas site, where he has worked for over twenty-seven years. As his car was out […]
Personal Hero
The only flesh and blood I see each night and morning, who I can still embrace and kiss his funny fuzzy face, leaves the house early each day. He’s not what you’d call a life saver, he’s not on the front line, but his contributions are real, helping the country stay warm, boil kettles and […]
Not Quite Empty City
Once, the constant backing track of traffic and city noise drummed in an ever-present hum. Streetlight haloes fixed glimpses of homebound faces as they passed, in shop windows and bus-stop glass. Now, there is no more morning haul or night-time crawl of onomatopoeic pedestrians and their quirky, jerky stop-and-go. Below deserted bridges, the river laps […]
Restricted View
From the window and in the confines of the garden, I watch spring advance. Willow buds and almost-blossoms dance on the breeze, promising abundance yet to come. High above in the heavens are black smudges of distant ravens, harbingers let loose among vernal festivities. Stuck alone within these walls, but blessed with flowers, hedgerows and […]
A Way Back to the Garden
In the garden she was lovingly cultivating, Mother Nature stood back. The plants were doing well, flourishing even, producing flowers and fruit of every colour, even some she hadn’t invented yet – they were going it alone. Birds and insects carried pollen from one part of the garden to another, cross-pollinating, creating forest and jungle, […]
The Clarity of Lunacy
Dark clouds lift and take my soul; daytime solitude, taunted by spring sun and blossoms, fades into clair de lune, madness hugs and kisses the moon, her friendly face the soft pale blue of porcelain glaze. I stand at the window and gaze at a night-blackened empty street, no cars pass, no people strolling by, […]
Silvered
After nearly two weeks within these walls, and even more to follow, with only walks around the garden, how long can claustrophobia be suppressed? I write poetry in pyjamas, no reason to get dressed until I open the back door to spring sunshine, to hang out washing, feed the birds, pace around the willow chanting […]
Conjuring Spring
After dark months of hard-as-iron winter, cold and long, the first month of spring has been bereft of birdsong. Still, the vernal magic wand is quietly greening, scattered with white stars of snowdrops, yellow daffodils and golden coronas of celandine, conjuring constellations of sunshine. Kim M. Russell, 23rd March 2020 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Mothering Sunday
I left the laptop, just for a minute or two, to let the cats out and make the first cup of tea of this morning. I looked out at the sunshine, perky daffodils and drooping snowdrops gathered at the end of the garden, smiled to myself, and then, from the laptop’s scrolling photo display, a […]
writing in north norfolk 