winter (Remove filter)
Dead Leaves
Dead Leaves
You once grew green
On lofty branches
Defiant against the clouds
Fluttering in the breeze
But now the tree has gone
Just a pale ghost of memory
And the sky is dominant
In my front windows
Your first death was brittle
Old man skeleton scratching
Whipping up your decline
In whorls of frustration
And when the rain came
Like falling tears
...Tuesday 4th February 2020 12:37 pm
ðə króz ləmɛ́nt
ðə króz ləmɛ́nt
(tékən frə́m ‘the bʊ́k ə́v crows’)
kró stǽnd ən fíld
sɪ́ŋ kró sɔ́ŋ
tú hjúmən ɪ́r
sáwnd rɔ́ŋ
koww koww koww
kró blǽk ə́v wɪ́ŋ
kró blǽk ə́v bón
kró blǽk ə́v hárt
kró só əlón
áj hǽd brə́ðər blǽk
bə́t brə́ðər blǽk ɪ́z gɔ́n
tékən báj ðə wɪ́ntər
hɪ́r máj sǽd kró sɔ́ŋ
“stick mǽn
...
Wednesday 23rd May 2018 2:02 pm
Back To The Park
Back To The Park
It’s mid July,
a summer’s day.
School is just
a memory away.
We lay on grass
and watch the sky
and count the clouds
as they pass by.
We talk of bands
we’d like to see -
Led Zeppelin, Quo,
Sabbath and Free.
Insects buzz,
a distant bark,
children playing
In the park.
You turn to me
and kiss my lips
and move in close,
h...
Tuesday 3rd April 2018 2:55 pm
Cold Hearted
Cold Hearted
the calming time
cotton wool squeak
beneath my feet
the air
crisp with cold
crystal palaces
cut from ice
nose and mouth
streaming mist
vivid blue sky
the lake cupped
by mountain hands
in a caring gesture
frozen feet deep
covered with snow
the calming time
distant voices
carried on a
biting breeze
cheeks frost rouged
...Tuesday 20th December 2016 12:18 pm
A Wee Dram
A Wee Dram
The dancing flames lick gently at the grate,
a bottle splashes amber to the glass,
soft chimes reminding that the hour is late,
aromas drift of peat and harsh deer grass,
the smoky mist of morning, with each pass.
The glow of bonfires as I gently kiss,
letting the rich swelling flavours amass
and burn upon my lips, no thoughts but this –
“how can something so bitter bring suc...
Tuesday 16th December 2014 7:21 pm
Snowblind
SNOWBLIND
Like a pristine field of snow
you glare back at me and I know
that even with the greatest will
I’ll never get the words to spill
upon your virgin gown.
I want to smudge the ashes of my dreams
upon your frigid, frozen streams
that when the summer sun’s aglow
lap gently with a lazy flow
caressing inspiration from my brow.
My ...
Monday 28th January 2013 11:32 pm
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