Boar Lane by Lamplight

The evening has already drawn
across the town moon-silvered clouds
like a sky-filled eiderdown.
Boar Lane is coming to life, crowds
tread cobbles that seem
to hold on to sunset with the light
streaming from windows. Like a dream,
gas lamps, candles and lanterns bright
entice carousers and romancers
into the pubs to escape the long haul
of the working day, while dancers
and singers are drawn to the music hall.

While the rest of the city is settling down,
Boar Lane is the brightest place in the town.

Kim M. Russell, 29^th September 2026

At the dVerse Poets Pub today is Poetics Tuesday and we are looking through the eyes of John Atkinson Grimshaw with Sanaa, our host.

Sanaa here has given us a comprehensive background of the life and work of the artist Atkinson Grimshaw, who was born in Leeds in 1836, was largely self-taught and became one of the most distinctive British painters of the Victorian era. She says that he “found poetry in things that might otherwise seem mundane: a railway road at night, a wet pavement, a dock, a suburban lane, a bridge. And then he added the moon. A lot of moon.”

She says, “Perhaps this is why Grimshaw’s paintings remain so haunting: he understood that night is not merely the absence of light, but a world with its own language. In the silver of the moon, the glow of distant windows, and the reflections trembling across wet streets, the familiar becomes mysterious.”

For today’s Poetics, Sanaa would like us to choose ONE of the paintings she has included in her prompt and write a poem inspired by it, an ekphrastic poem, or simply take the title as a springboard or both.