i sun-sprinkled birdsongcracked joke of an empty egga fledgling’s first leapblown off course by spring wind’s roarmorning’s still dust-tongued with frost ii a purple floweramong drooping daffodilsstirring frozen heartsskin like petals unfurlingfeels the cold brush of winter Kim M. Russell, 1st April 2026 It’s the first day of the month and NaPoWriMo begins its poem […]
Tag: dverse Poets Pub
Doughty
Among globules of hail a single purpleflower stands resilient to the chill: a grape hyacinth shivering amongdrooping daffodils. They bloomed too soon, their yellow hurrahs loud and blatant,nodding and dancing in March winds. When the sun arrived, stirring our winter-frozen hearts, we peeled off a few layers, exposed skin like petals unfurling,only to feel the […]
As a March Hare
We’ve had such a mixture of weather all through March that I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. One minute the sun shone and I left off my jumper, the next I was shivering and cursing wind and hail. No wonder the wildlife is confused. Luckily, it hasn’t affected the blossom and flowers in […]
Spring Reversal
Despite tender green leavesand a proliferation of flowersthe world is upside down. Hills rise over the sun, abovethem rivers run, bombsand drones darken skies. Blinkered men are intent on killingone another until Earthstops spinning. Why can’t they stopand smell the scent of springpermeating everything? In this spring reversal, innocent civiliansbecome corpses and tragic orphans. Kim […]
Waking Silence
In night’s well, the moongreets dawn, and drownsin poems that ebband flow,a quiet heartbeat. From the depths of dreams,the muffled tickof a clockanchors me to morning. Your waking smile is silentyet I hear its messageclearly. Kim M. Russell 23rd March 2026 It’s Monday and, at the dVerse Poets Pub, we are writing silent quadrilles, poems […]
Padraig’s Snake
What ifa green snakehas lived inthe green grass all these years, despite changes to climate, hidden in the richness of its own colour,even whenfamine struck? Emerald,undulating and coiling but never striking, living its best life while Paddy is celebrated – he didn’t do a proper job. Perhaps he knew,thought he’d test faith, spice up mythology […]
Back from the Front
The war was over and railway stations in London were flooded with soldiers: the walking wounded, shell shocked and confused. After years in the trenches, it was commonplace to see young men dazzled by gas lights or cringing at a blast of steam from a train. I have waited every day, desperate to catch a […]
Apflod*
* Anglo-Saxon word for low tide. What impressed our ancestors about the rocky coast?Those wet rocks, barnacled and slick with weed?The immense power of waves that boastas they crash onto the shore, pounding screefrom cliffs to sand? And here I stand, watching gulls circle above;below, the colours of the wild sea are mixedas if a […]
March Morning in North Norfolk
Norfolk skies,broad and grey,weave anthracite clouds. A boat glides by,steel river wash,intrepid in its wake. The day drawsits morning breath,draws cackling roosting crows, draws mistacross greening fields,landscape’s waking womb. Kim M. Russell, 10th March 2026 This Tuesday, Dora is our host for Tuesday Poetics at the dVerse Poets Pub, and we are embodying the landscape. […]
March Birdsong
Songbirds are backin the blossoming hawthorn –a warble, a trill and thenthey are airborne. Early in March,it’s wheatears, or ‘white arse’,with sand martins not farbehind. Chiffchaffs will followbut the true signof burgeoning springare the swallows. Kim M. Russell, 10th March 2026 De hosted the dVerse Poets Pub Monday Quadrille yesterday, those poems of precisely 44 […]
writing in north norfolk 