and time to think about Christmas gift, especially for poetry lovers. My poetry pamphlet, All Grown Up Now, is still available at all good bookshops and Amazon. It’s had excellent reviews and is suitable for all ages. If you’re looking for a book for children ages 8 to 14 years, my WWII ghost story, Joe […]
flower
flow reef flowfollow flowerwolf roll lowerroll for woolreel of woewell of foolfollower of flower Kim M. Russell, 9th November 2023 Image of a wolfsbane plant by Josie Weiss on Unsplash Here’s another anagrammatic poem for Björn’s Meeting the Bar at the dVerse Poets Pub, where we are playing with limitations in poetry.
(flawed) pirate
pirate eat a ripe peaa tripe pierip pear apartat a piera rapt riterat trap patterair arttip irate paterapt prat tripretire By Kim M. Russell, 9th November 2023 Image by Patrick Pahlke on Unsplash Björn is our host for Meeting the Bar at the dVerse Poets Pub and he invites us to play with limitations in […]
Village
This is a quiet village in a flat landscape,where boat sails criss-cross fieldspast old churches and windmills. There are ancient woods and trees:rowan, oak and beech,walks along a winding lane or windy beach. Just down the road horses graze and on the riverducks and swans return each year:I’m not the only one who loves it […]
Buckets
I would love to return to the seasideon a sixties time machine ride,where my sister and I used to playwith our plastic buckets and spades. I would feel the sand between my toes,watch the waves crash on the stones,and run down to the sea to fill my bucketwith water to pour in our sandcastle’s moat. […]
November Snow
Summer is a distant memory and autumn is already on its way out, but Morris the gardener has a huge task on his hands – clearing leaves from the orchard. He shrugs on his overcoat, dons hat and gloves, and makes his way across the soggy lawn and through the walled kitchen garden to the […]
Elegy for a Gentle Soul
Without a grave where, lonely, I can weep,an urn or box of ashes I can keep,her soul lives on in photographs and songsshe used to sing when I was very young,the ones I loved to hum to my own child,and hum them still while walking in the wildand windy autumn lanes, wet-eyed with griefand almost […]
Moving
If I were a tree, I would not considermoving, my roots firm in soil,beneath green grass in summerand in autumn a leafy litterof russet, amber, umber, ochre. If I were a snail, I’d carry my home,followed by a silver trail,free to wander and to roamacross tarmac, stone and loam,sheltered by my spiralled dome. But I […]
On reading Heaney’s ‘Gifts of Rain’
The recent rain has left puddles,cars shower walkers with chilly wavesand tractors churn up mud. Burst riverbanks leave us in a muddle,fields and gardens lost, animals to save,as we wrangle with the flood. On the other side of the world it’s dry,all moisture wrung out, no dripping taps,just an arid cough of dust. There’s not […]
writing in north norfolk 