I’m happy to have started the poetic year with a poem in the January 2020 issue, Vol. 7, Chapter 3 of the online Visual Verse anthology. You can find my poem on page 27 or you can link directly to the poem, entitled ‘Preparatory Sketch’. Also linked to Poets and Storytellers United Writers’ Pantry.
Category: Poems Inspired by Artists, Music and Other Writers
Poetry Pea Podcast: Ekphrasis
Patricia has posted the final Poetry Pea podcast, of 2019, Series 2 Episode 24, with a host of fabulous ekphrastic haiku, including two of mine. You can listen and read the show notes at the same time here.
From Raindrop to River to Sea
It starts with a perfect drop of rain falling from a cloud – and the future arrives just as water, rippling the stillness of a pond, releasing mayflies, dragonflies, and herons that flap their wings like broken umbrellas against spring rain. The gorged river glints, powerful and steadfast on its intrepid journey to the coast, […]
Cracked
It was a tragedy, seven years’ misfortune. And yet, the shards were beautiful, sharp edges shimmering, a dark rift spreading as the mirror cracked from side to side. A waterfall of tiny splinters tumbled to the stone flagged floor and underneath the bathroom door, tiny jewels of tears sobbed from her magnificent reflection: bound by […]
Snake in the Grass
It is a grass snake. It is curled in autumn leaves. It is autumn leaves. In it is a curled grass snake. A curled autumn snake? Is it? It is leaves in grass! It is curled in grass. It is a snake autumn leaves. Curled leaves in grass. It is a snake. It is autumn. […]
Nettles
We are not subtle, although we blend, green in the midst of green, our sting, our poison bating our green breath with not a quiver. Hiding in the green, we remain unseen, waiting pungently for a patch of skin a recipient for our histamine; we long to puncture a scarlet tattoo, stinging souvenirs. Our hairy, […]
Poem
Long gone are days of turf and mud, green fields rising in mist and rain; old cords were cut and never tied again, but ours endures, a cord of blood. We have squared the fairy ring of mushrooms, magical and bathed in dew, we’ve come full circle, me and you, my changeling born in autumn […]
