It’s that time of year againwhen, in the horologist’s shop,clocks argue about the correct timeor stopat some haunting hour to hintat lighter morningsand longer days,and long to springforward into bluer skies,greener branches and meadows,and more rainbows. Kim M. Russell, 27th January 2025 Image by Jon Tyson on Unsplash It’s Quadrille Monday at the dVerse Poets […]
Tag: dverse Poets Pub
While winter writes love notes again
While winter writes love notes,we hunker down in a world of white. Instead of flowers,storms bring ice in fists. Love can be a monster,scribbled poems in the margins of a frozen puddle,or on an uncrushed flower, yearning to burst into constellationsand dance in green shafts of spring again. Kim M. Russell, 14th January 2025 Image […]
Waiting for a Verdant Cheer
The stale and sullen gloomof wood smoke, dampearth and bruised cloudsis still captive, clampedbeneath winter’s icy lid. We wait impatiently for it to lift,for the youthful yearto release springin a verdant cheerand confetti of bright blooms. Kim M. Russell, 13th January 2024 Image by Emme Kearns on Unsplash For the first Quadrille of 2025 at […]
After the first step into the New Year
“we write past, present and futurefind possibilities in wordsbut we cannot swim like dolphinsor swoop and dive like birds” from ‘Being Human’ by Kim M. Russell I couldn’t wait for the end of itafter so much worry and disenchantment,and longed to say goodbye to itall year long. Planets out of alignment,illness took the shine off […]
Wordstone
I’m not a light-footed scampereron windswept beaches, however I’m like a ruddy turnstone, my ageingskin freckled and pebbled, turning words like stones and discoveringthe nourishment that I’m seeking: words and phrases, deep as the sea;a pile of eureka poems to satisfy me. Kim M. Russell, 7th January 2024 Ruddy turnstone, photographed by Michael Sammut For […]
Blue Period
I was a quiet, sensitive teenager, who felt songs deeply, like tattoos. I’d never been to sea or travelled abroad, and longed to sail away. But I let someone underneath my skin, where there was an empty space to fill. That was where I went wrong, trusting someone who didn’t have my best interests at […]
Today’s Sermon
is marsh birdspouring over reeds and a golden plover’srapid wing beats, and the brief shadowsof small wavelets. Today’s sermon isa soft cacophony drifting from trees,cool air and moss. Today’s sermon ismy willpower disintegratinginto iced creaminess, a swirl of sweetness,a little thrill of pistachio. Today’s sermon isknitting a present for my sister in a rich redthe […]
Latewood
Swaddles of mistinhabit the darkeningbetween trees.Despite the formingof the darker partsof annual growth rings,still there is a green silence,broken only by the beating of wings,the occasional cracking twig,and the seasonal frostingof branches and the grassbeneath my feet.Notwithstanding the ache for spring,I’m listening yet. Kim M. Russell, 10th December 2024 Image by Drazen Nesic on Unsplash […]
Storm Sounds
Who’s that banging at the door?I was asleep and awoke with a snore. There’s a terrify crashing in the trees,and the wind is no longer a gentle breeze: it’s an ogre, firstly humming and growling,then a screaming banshee, whistling and howling. Kim M. Russell, 9th December 2024 Image by Alexander Andrews on Unsplash It’s Monday […]
November Umbrage
Suspicious of a sunny dayas autumn’s glow begins to fade,I resent the early twilight.I doubt the early morning frost,the crunch of leaves the wind has tossed,despise the temperature at night.Although snowflakes give me a chill,their sparkles still give me a thrill,but I fear deep blankets of white. Kim M. Russell, 28th November 2024 Image by […]
writing in north norfolk 