Tree of Life

My response to Carpe Diem Tan Renga Challenge Month May 9th “autumn leaves turn red” by Georgia (a.k.a. Bastet) a dream in a dream sand slipping through old fingers autumn leaves turn red                          © Georgia naïve green garments of youth become rich robes of wisdom                © Kim M. Russell […]

Abandoned

My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Sunday Mini-Challenge: Harrows and Hallows   Pernicious parents, Distorted trees split open, Exposing hearts Of writhing tendrils. Throwing swollen limbs akimbo, They abandon mewling saplings To stodgy black bogs and fells, Crinkled as old men’s faces From nightmare tales. Orphans of the environment Forsaken on the craggy […]

Suspended

My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Writing Prompt: May 8 2016: The Tarot – Major Arcana – The Hanged Man The Hanged Man ©wintersmagic on deviantart   Dusty daffodil yellow Has disappeared Along with callow Buds and leaves Overpowered By fluorescent fields Of rapeseed flowers And golden gorse Hints that summer Waits off-stage Waiting for new colours In […]

A Mother’s Love

My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond – Madrigal This week Bastet has treated us to a mini history of Italian poetry and introduced us to the Italian madrigal, a pastoral or love song written in lines of seven or eleven syllables and consisting of two or three tercets followed by one or […]

Thundering Atlantic

Another Golden Shovel poem, with opening lines from Seamus Heaney’s poem ‘North’.   You and I have finally returned. We found our way back to roots and branches of a family tree, long buried in a small churchyard near a strand in the wave-hammered storm-swept curve and wind-whispering embrace of a west coast bay. We […]

Digging for poems

My response to dVerse Meeting the Bar: the Golden Shovel Form   Above, below and in between I trace familiar features with my Fumbling, feathery finger. Up, down, under and Over, I feel well-worn skin with my Tentative thumb Memorising the Tensions before I squat Over the ink pot, filling a pen That rarely rests Knowing […]