In those old photographs, I see a teenager, pale and lacking confidence, happy to allow mother or sister-in-law to take over for a while, united in womanhood, your blonde hair curled around your face, like Marilyn’s. I arrived too soon. The sparkle of the glamorous life you hoped for faded into monochrome. You grew up […]
Tag: dverse Poets Pub
Woken by Birdsong
This morning I was woken by the sound of birdsong, a faint and distant tiny tin whistle of a song, as I lay in the cosy comfort of my warm bed and contemplated getting up and whistling along. Pulling a woolly sweater over my tousled head, I stepped outside, where a two-toned light began to […]
Unfettered
Snowdrops bring (de) light to the darkest, coldest months of winter: one day, tentatively poking green heads through hard soil; the next, trickling into a snowdrift of white flowers, gentle harbingers of unfettered reproduction and the joyous riot of spring. Kim M. Russell, 29th January 2019 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Harbinger, also […]
Tumbledown Shed
Weighted with ivy, tessellated with lichen and moss, the roof has splintered and caved in. Perhaps something has settled among the long-forgotten tools and pots – now homes for mice and spiders. Our sentinel by the rickety gate sheds flakes of peeling paint. The padlock key is long gone and its treasures remain hidden. Kim […]
Shedding Skin
The first time I shed skin, my tongue probed the blade of a new language, tasted unfamiliar vowels and consonants, bled new words and poems. The second time I shed skin, the words were mine but the tune was new, lilting and green. The last time I shed skin, the landscape taught me everything I […]
Sonnet to a Poet’s Hands
The young man’s hands were slender, quick and strong, composing sonnets to his unknown muse, creating worlds in drama and in song to challenge the emotions and amuse. The busy writer’s hands were stained with ink and words. His skin was cracked and raw with rhyme. The scratching of the pen spurred him to think […]
A Need to Know Basis
You need to know, I have a fragile muse fashioned from Venetian glass, blown out and close to shattering. Despite that, we climb aboard a gondola and enter the shadow of the Bridge of Sighs, sighing and shivering from the sudden chill. But Venice has its own poetry. The city knows which form to use […]
How Strange the Change
How strange is the change from those heavy gunmetal days that fall in the cracks between Christmas and New Year? How sweet the shift of chord from minor to major as mornings become lighter strewn with white and purple crocuses and a blackbird’s song! Kim M. Russell, 14th January 2019 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Words and Feet
We welcomed them eighty years ago from the shadows of the night of broken glass to the streets of Britain and beyond, child refugees, hungry and scared, in need of homes. History should not be allowed to repeat itself; it’s our turn to act, to learn from the past and protect children fleeing conflict and […]
On the back of the bathroom door…
hangs the cosiest cardigan, the one I hug to me in the early morning; that embraces me while brewing the first cup of tea; that warms me as I write a chilly January poem; the one that shields me from the sneaky draught that evades the excluder and, unwarmed by the log burner, wraps itself […]
writing in north norfolk 