A splash of bluebells floods the shadow tumbled woods, newly soaked with morning scented rain glittering in the early sunshine. Gun-metal sky and silver- bellied clouds have sunk in the bluebell river, granting a watery wish for crisp chromatic colours, fresh and spring clean. Kim M. Russell, 21st May 2018 My poem for dVerse Poets […]
Tag: Quadrille
Muddle
From an untidy, disorganised muddle, we unpick poems, cuddle them close until they breathe. In a cluttered, haphazard jumble of thoughts and ideas, words tumble and line up themselves up cleaving imagery into stanzas, weaving poetic sanity from knots and tangles of the mind. Kim M. Russell, 7th May 2018 My response to dVerse Poets […]
A Rugby Roar
Saturday afternoon, two hours until the train leaves, the boardwalk springs under my feet and the river sports diamonds. In the stadium at Cardiff Arms Park, there’s a gathering of voices. It rises, echoes like the sea: the roar of spectators gathered for rugby. Kim M. Russell, 2018 Photographs by David Russell My response […]
Nothing at all
with a fastening of lips drawn and pressed in a tight line at superhuman speed she pulls her finger across the elongated hyphen the simulated silent zip she has none left to argue with no pizzazz, pep or vim she has nothing at all Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to ttps://dversepoets.com/2018/04/09/quadrille-52-zip-it/ De is our […]
Cracked Shell
On the paved path under the glossy bay tree, newly fallen from a nest, the jagged crack of half a freckled sky blue eggshell tears a hole in the day like a spring morning chorus of anxious mother birds, beaks open in raucous warning. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My poem for the dVerse Poets Pub […]
Hearthful of Flames
‘Someone has a great fire in his soul and nobody ever comes to warm themselves at it, and passers-by see nothing but a little smoke at the top of the chimney and then go on their way’ – Vincent van Gogh A fire roared in his soul. All his neighbours saw was smoke; they gossiped […]
The Possibility of Snow
Snow surprise transforms and lifts an otherwise grey February day, delighting children and the young at heart with play. But my hands are blue, my fingers burn, and my bones creak at every turn. The possibility of snow this week makes my insides churn. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: […]
Morning Murmur
Streams trickle and ditches chuckle with last night’s rain; it giggles in puddles in the muddy lane and glistens on the window pane. In the gloom of my morning room, where merging shadows whisper, I just murmur, pull up the duvet and turn over. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: […]
Poem in 44 Words
PO – is the in – breath, the in – flow of in – spiration, an opening to be filled to overflowing. A pause allows words to form, lines to come together, to be one, a symphony of expression in the outbreath, the humming of the mantra – EM Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response […]
the roundest word
the roundest word I know is bounce a happy dog a curl of hair a rainbow-coloured beach ball in the air happy feet on rubber soles the echoing cheer for a winning goal the bending note of a down-tuned bass an astronaut in space Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: […]
writing in north norfolk 