Resurrecting ghosts
the snow blows under the bridge
beneath the train staiton
blowing a invisible bell
weighted in emotion

tunnelling over a day
foretold in images over frozen lakes
shawled over empty hills
and ringing bells pausing
in a silent moment of reflection

filing our footprints in silence
our hands into snowmen
wishing we had put our boots on
and our toches in our pockets
...

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Mam,

What was it you said

As a I lay in my bed

One snowy Christmas Eve?

 

That if I believe

In what I receive

Comes from a magical place

 

Then, the world can be yours

There'll be open doors

Into realms 

beyond our time & space 

 

***

Merry Christmas & a better New Year to all on planet WOL! ❤️

 

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A Christmas Wish 

 

I wish I could go back for just a day

I wish there was a magic way

To twenty years or so ago. 

To christmas past as white as snow.

To little kids in soft pyjamas, 

Christmas specials of telly dramas. 

Excitement sizzles in the air, 

Gifts from loved ones soon to share.

Special baubles cover the tree, 

Children waiting full of glee. 

Santa’s m...

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In the bed, she lay

So tired & so frail

Like the room itself

So colourless & pale

 

At least, through the window

She could see the snowflakes dance

Falling in a serenade

To a winter's night romance

 

Her bed sores burned like hell

In this purgatory of self

A forgotten thing called living

Lay dormant on its shelf

 

But the snow fell so dreamlike

...

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( click on the live motion link below to get that lovely crackling fire sound ?)

 

On cold winter nights like these

When flaming hues of orange and red 

flicker and sway upon the walls 

of a darkened room

 

The past can find its way back

 

Seeping out of cracks, long-since filled

Through floorboards, long-since replaced

Soft and hushed, 

ingrained in the periphe...

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The Christmas lights were dim

But, not as dim as Tim

Who opened all the doors

To let more light in! ?

 

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A brand new anthology of Christmas poems has been launched as a Facebook project.

‘A Mersey Christmas’  features work by local poets who frequent the spoken word poetry circuits around Birkenhead and Liverpool, and is available to read free.

Curated by Wirral poets Barry Woods and Michelle Wright the collection is their fourth creative writing project and a Christmas gift to the people of th...

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Tommy the turkey was tired totally tired, it's true as his tribe  - being tremendously tasty - tended to top the menu   Tom started out pretty tranquil He was quite the traditional type But rightfully got in a temper at some of that thanksgiving hype   He seemed to ge...

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One whole year's

time emptied

Like lace leaves

 

From the cold trees

Skeletal wisps

You are missing 

attic tinsel 

 

Boxed deep and dusting

With bristles flaking

From the broken spine

So no silver lines 

Our crisp, black-branched pine.

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Christmas fairy lights still dangle,
Plastic string of neon candles,
Hallowing the wreckage of the year.

Streaming ‘River’ on repeat
River Warbling marrow-deep

Wash away those spiteful, December bones.

From jigsaws sat on nickel knees
To whisky-nursing you in sprees,
Femurs first you left us piece by piece.

Frailty distils the waters
Trickles down through all your daughters

...

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