Oh, season of hollow darkness and silence! When the blackbird sings before Christmas, she will cry before Candlemas, is how the saying goes; so I forgive the muted blackbird and thank the thrush for singing sweet promises of spring despite threats of frost and snow. Kim M. Russell, 12th January 2019 My response to Imaginary […]
Category: Poems
Words and Feet
We welcomed them eighty years ago from the shadows of the night of broken glass to the streets of Britain and beyond, child refugees, hungry and scared, in need of homes. History should not be allowed to repeat itself; it’s our turn to act, to learn from the past and protect children fleeing conflict and […]
On the back of the bathroom door…
hangs the cosiest cardigan, the one I hug to me in the early morning; that embraces me while brewing the first cup of tea; that warms me as I write a chilly January poem; the one that shields me from the sneaky draught that evades the excluder and, unwarmed by the log burner, wraps itself […]
Renewal
In a bright display, dawn bursts and colour- washes the sky with a still life of hot pink, purple and gold. Aurora ameliorates and burnishes the old in a bleak, wintry landscape with silhouetted lucidity and an artist’s eye. Kim M. Russell, 4th January 2019 My response to Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo Thursday photo prompt: […]
Morning Inspiration
I get up early while you’re still asleep; avoid the cats while creeping down the stairs, try not to wake you with my leaden feet, and stumble over work boots into chairs. The floor is cold, and so’s the toilet seat, the sink is laced with toothpaste and stray hairs. The cat tray smells and […]
Bread-Making in Winter
For months frayed foliage has covered earth, the agèd year is faded to sepia shades and now it turns again to white and grey with early dusk as winter draws its breath. The frigid bite of January’s mellowed, outdone by the aroma, as it lingers, of yeast and flour wafting from your fingers, familiar scent […]
With the Volume Turned Down Way Too Low
I hope it’s only temporary, this cotton-wool muffle of everyday sound, with random crackle of static, constant shower of white noise and high-hat cymbal of gravel on an empty road. I’m bombarded with percussion when I want to hear words, a human voice, the television and the ring of the telephone. Until normal service is […]
If I hadn’t written that poem
‘The world is never the same once a [good] poem has been added to it’. Dylan Thomas If I hadn’t looked up to search the heavens, would my soul ever have been soothed? I waited patiently for shooting stars to zip across the deepest, darkest winter sky – but the clouds were dense, obscured the […]
Ockclay Orkway
Big Ben’s famous ockclay orkway leads the countdown with a bong, the signal for the ewnay earyay, lit up brightly with irefay orkways – until it all goes Pete Tong: Big Ben’s creaking eargays and revellers’ drunken fumbles. You wake up in the orningmay with a hangover and belly rumbles – and nothing’s really changed. […]
Winter Woods
In light so low, the winter woods merge into a silhouette of shadow. Above the silent solitude, clouds roll and break in snow-blasted billows, crooning chilly songs to fill the night with the scent of frost and its icy bite. Kim M. Russell, 28th December 2018 My response to Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo Thursday photo […]
