When I was young, I loved athletics, as it didn’t involve throwing or catching a ball, or a whole team of other people. While sprinting, I was in the zone, on my own, with the finish in sight. Long jump was another event I enjoyed and was good at, and swimming. I can no longer […]
Scarlet Pimpernel
I seek it here, I seek it there,a natural forecaster of showers,like a child’s drawing of red flowers,a childhood memory to share.I seek it here, I seek it there. When I was young, I spent idle hoursobserving tiny scarlet flowerswhich seemed to grow most everywhere.I seek it here, I seek it there. This summer, perfumes […]
Changing Times
How strange that it has cometo this. Children of hardworking mothershave been falling in the cracks between rich andpoor, while summer permeates the souls of fathersbattling the heat and storms throughoutthese heavy gunmetal days. How sweet theshift of chord from minor to major in a landof bittersweet memories, loss andan unknown future, where beggars don’thave […]
I didn’t realise!
Happy Anniversary with WordPress.com! You registered on WordPress.com 9 years ago. Thanks for flying with us. Keep up the good blogging.
Feeding Horses in the Snow
Snow spilled into her boots, over her socks, freezing her toes. She’d risen late, tricked by the shadowy darkness of snow piled up to the gutter. They would be hungry, stamping on frozen ground, their hooves a hollow sound.They couldn’t graze. Her husband had released them before work; by the time she’d crunched through the […]
A Very British Summer
It arrives with the sparkle and sweetnessof lemonade, echoes of cricketon the green, and scents of mown grassand public swimming pool. Butbehind the summer shimmerthere’s a threatening glimmerof thunderstorms and torrential rainto send us back indoors again. Kim M. Russell, 22nd July 2024 Image by Urban Vintage on Unsplash This Monday, De is hosting the […]
Dogwood (a quadrille)
A summer blizzard cloudof feathers from a pillow fight,understated blossom clustersshimmering in sunlight hidehard timber once carved intothe cross on which Christ was crucified.Until its grey bark bursts into red,dogwood crouches in hedges,creeps around woodland edges. Kim M. Russell, 16th July 2024 Alma Thomas, Arboretum Presents White Dogwood, (1972), acrylic on canvas, Smithsonian American Art Museum […]
Freedom
Thankful that I am free to walk pretty much wherever I want, say what is on my mind, and write from the heart, every day unfurls as it must, and I follow my usual route. The sun is shining, the horses grazing, and the grass growing tall. I stop to watch rabbits gambolling in the […]
Painting with Words
Each of the artist’sbrushes that bristle in potsare like the pens poisedon the poet’s desk top.Accretions of crusty paintare tiny self-portraits on the palettelike words on the poet’s pages,paper or screen, all sense distilledinto vivid marks and images. Kim M. Russell, 15th July 2024 Image by Jennie Razumnaya on Unsplash My response to the Living […]
I Dreamed of You
I woke on the edge of dawn,roused by a blackbird’s songin the first pink flush.Shadow-lit and milky-greyin the cosy embrace of blanketsand the fug of morning breath, I remembered dreaming of youand was reminded of your death. I clung to the edge of dawn.A sparkling new day had arrived,the cold, refreshing scentof dew-soaked grass waftedthrough […]
writing in north norfolk 