She was twelve, and the summer holidays were only days away – no school, long days of freedom, and excitement in the air. Dad kept his promise. They’d watched the launch repeat on the news and then he woke her up in the middle of the night to sit side by side on the sofa, […]
Tag: dverse Poets Pub
Swimming in Green
Workaday realities disappear, bright bubbles in a flashflood of birdsong, and the garden becomes a shady mere, green ripples that echo all summer long. l Peace creeps from grass to leaf to tree, along each branch, farther than any wings can reach, way over the top of the silver beech, from which a sole premature […]
Broken Compass
Vincent van Gogh once wrote: ‘The conscience is a man’s compass’, but humankind’s compass broke and we have lost our way. We are drowning the planet in a mass of plastic, choking the rainforests with palm oil, sitting by and watching as the polar icecaps melt into the background of inane selfies posted on social […]
Worship
She’s a bright splatter of golden petalled bloom anchored in earth with her many faces in a single head. Her roots absorb toxins from the flowerbed as she worships the sun, tracking its movement across the sky with the loyalty of a lover’s eye. Kim M. Russell, 15th July 2019 My response to dVerse Poets […]
From Fret to Regret
My teenage passion was fingering frets, twisting my fingers into chords and positions, resonating the sound hole of a Yamaha. When telephone wire silhouettes strung across yellow and orange sunsets resemble strings, I regret giving up my dream of playing like Williams or Bream. Kim M. Russell, 17th June 2019 My poem for dVerse Poets […]
Eggs and Other Things in Your Basket
From the steps at city hall, the market square resembles a tin of sweet wrappers, brightly striped in sunshine and glistening in rain. A walk between the stalls makes me sea-sick: I roll down the lurching incline, a sometime sailor, bantering with Norwich traders over fresh fruit, fish and flowers; exotic spices, eggs and cheese; […]
Night Sounds
Above the garden, diamond sparkles fill the sky and the moon is a thin slice of lemon light. An owl floats, a slow ghost fading into shadows. Even the breeze is soundless. I’m beginning to feel that I’m alone on this planet, when far away an interrupted cry causes a rip in the silence – […]
Cruel Paean
For the past few weeks I’d caught it echoing across the village, a lazy iambic chant. When you heard it too, we smiled together at the rare sound of the cuckoo’s two-note song. We forgot that it’s a cold-hearted parasite, hatched and nurtured to the tune of another bird’s lullaby. We were oblivious to its […]
One Fine Day
There’s a sparkling space between orchestra and clear soprano voice, a tragic butterfly in a bell jar, bright wings shimmering before she’s pinned. Puccini’s signature violins swirl and an incidental flute curls, a ship’s smoke on the far horizon, as Cio-Cio-San’s dream spills: one fine day, she’ll see Pinkerton climbing up the hill. The voice, […]
Dragon Quadrille
What has become of dragons? Do they leave trails of scales and seaweed on every rock and shore? Do dragons roar in echoes of thunderstorms, scorch burling clouds with lightning from their tails? Do dragons lurk in lava and ore deep within the earth’s core? What are they forging? Kim M. Russell, 3rd June 2019 […]
writing in north norfolk 