It wasn’t winter
I have realised,
age 55
that it wasn’t winter that made me miserable and maudlin
after all.
It was my work,
the ruled, clock time,
stealing daylight
leaving me night.
I have maligned winter,
avoided her,
curled up and wished for spring.
But I have wronged her,
for there is beauty in … Read more
Poetic alchemy
As a young child I wrote poetry, badly but enthusiastically, secretly. I then did an English degree which involved, of course, reading lots of poetry. I continued to scribble down verses of my own but the degree was more concerned with the deconstruction and analysis of other people’s poems.
I’ve always fancied doing a creative … Read more
First they came for
… Read moreFirst they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew.
Then they
I don’t really know what to think about the Queen’s death…
I don’t really know what I think about the Queen’s death
apart from how old I am,
how time passes,
how lost they look,
how everything ends
everything dies,
how like Ozymandias,
nothing will remain.
I don’t know how I feel about the Queen’s death
..except that I feel as I do when,
with … Read more
Home
Home
Where the cat
brands the
old wooden chair leg
carving it
ornately,
deftly,
a master craftsman,
hollowing his back
as his claws reach,
shoulders stretched,
drawing down
paw
by
paw,
all might
and magnificence,
satisfied
at the stretching
of sinew
and the sharpening
of claw,
insouciant
nonchalance,
sleekly
furred,
adored.
…