Vibrant voices, though mute, stream with light from every shard. The silent congregation of intricate and ancient art, is animate with sanguine songs, a cadmium and cobalt choir intoning medieval psalms and Victorian poetry. Such heavenly illuminations are devilishly delicate, so easy to annihilate. Kim M. Russell, 12th August 2019 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Category: Quadrilles
Cats Have Freckles Too
There are freckles on Mojo’s sharply clawed feline paws, one black full stop on each punctuating her silver fur, two sweet little hellos tattooed above her toes quite plainly for me to see. It’s how I recognised her on the day she chose me. Kim M. Russell, 29th July 2019 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Worship
She’s a bright splatter of golden petalled bloom anchored in earth with her many faces in a single head. Her roots absorb toxins from the flowerbed as she worships the sun, tracking its movement across the sky with the loyalty of a lover’s eye. Kim M. Russell, 15th July 2019 My response to dVerse Poets […]
From Fret to Regret
My teenage passion was fingering frets, twisting my fingers into chords and positions, resonating the sound hole of a Yamaha. When telephone wire silhouettes strung across yellow and orange sunsets resemble strings, I regret giving up my dream of playing like Williams or Bream. Kim M. Russell, 17th June 2019 My poem for dVerse Poets […]
Rich Tapestry
Vast fields billow like an awning with stripes of green and brown, a landscape spring ploughed, rudely rich and ready for sowing: an elaborate rural tapestry to make a weaver proud. A few small stitches in the sky mark a lark that’s passing by. Kim M. Russell, 20th May 2019 This Monday I’m hosting the […]
Up Ended
I miss the freedom of childhood summers threading daisies searching for four-leaf clover turning an up- side down handstand against the wall dresses tucked in knickers laughing at each other’s frown that was an up- ended smile an omen it would soon be over Kim M. Russell, 6th May 2019 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Embracing the Moon
You never fail to rise to the occasion. How often have we stood face to face? You, white balloon, and me not immune to silver- tongued charms. I wake in your embrace and watch you fade as the sun nudges you from the s k […]
