On a dark December morning, invisible in sea mist, Norfolk beet fields whisper wind. Silent poplars, stripped of their leafy dress, oppressed by the closeness of gunmetal clouds, flank the lane. Tarmac glistens with overnight rain, the sky threatens to split again and has leached all colour. Suddenly, in the hedgerow, I see the silhouette […]
Category: Poems about Norfolk
A Quiet Place
This is a quiet place: a collection of moments, a still languid lake that swallows each drop of rain and cries tears of memories in watery reflections. Wistfully blue complexions shimmer with light and shadow, split by the occasional kingfisher or dragonfly, the only chinks in a diluted sky. Kim M. Russell, 2nd December 2018 […]
Once
Once upon a North Sea cliff, fragile skeletons chalky white and ghosts of spiralling ammonites exploded by the waterside. Teased by waves and torn by tides, the behemoth spilled its insides: with salty gush and rocky rumble, the towering cliffs began to tumble. Strewn among the shells and pebbles, bleached by sun and washed by […]
By the Moorings
At the bottom of the garden, just beyond the gate is a perfect, peaceful bench where I can sit and wait in the company of dragonflies, swans and their faithful mates. Soothed by sun-spangled water, hypnotised by boats, I anticipate a flash, a kingfisher flame to skitter low and coruscate, bubble and ripple in the […]
Norfolk Names
I’ve fallen in love with Norfolk over more than twenty five years, a place of awkward spellings, names alien to my London ears, where Neatishead and Happisburgh, Mundesley and Wymondham are sounds that rasp and purr when pronounced correctly in the strains of Norfolk burr. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden with […]
Spiced with Autumn
This landscape is rimmed with mudflats, salt marshes and shifting sands. Stubbly fields smoulder with an ever-autumnal aura, tinged with incandescent flames of purple knapweed and sky-blue chicory, bitter and peppery, spiced up with the sweet perfume of crushed clover, wild marjoram and broom. Kim M. Russell, 2017 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille […]
Spirit of the Broads
The smell of freedom and warm winds of summer linger in my sails a little longer, tangling ragged leaves in ropes. I feel the chilly current from the deep below, persistent waves ripple and break against my prow, tug my mooring, in a constant urging to break free before I am encased in winter. Kim […]
