Journey of Words

Category: Poetry

  • Hands Free

    We hold hands with Venus de Milo Slip gold rings from her fingers While Alexander takes to his bed He lies there, a new Nelson of Trafalgar travelling pickled in rum An obese Lazarus praying he’ll yet be spared walking “tolle lectum tuum” We empty-handed jugglers of nonsense Smell encroachment of rats Who scratch our →

  • Masque Ball

    With smoke and mirrors Dressed up mutton; false hopes, dreams Dancers with Truth . n.b. Could the BBC send a science correspondent to the daily press briefing from Downing Street? This is not about politics. CLP 05/04/2020 →

  • Day 18

    A clear, still night and a tawny owl’s calls are distinctly audible at 2 a.m. The three-quarter moon casts silver light on the bedroom wall through a gap in the curtains. Day comes with sunshine accompanied, at last, by warmth. I spent a couple of hours soaking up sunbeams stretched out on a bench; birdsong →

  • In Dreamland

    Cliché the commentator was taken by surprise Could not imagine what he was seeing Could not believe his eyes . The football pitch was purple Goals were hanging in the air The ball was a huge fat toffee apple The referee an old grey mare . Beach huts dotted the terraces With families at barbecues →

  • Rhyme or Reason

    All this washing! All colours faded Magic thinned Sweet spells spun out Dark potions dried All wrung tight Hung out in rain Concoctions separate Mystery now plain All once known Must be re-found again . www.napowrimo.net day 3 rhyme…random words…sense from chaos. CLP 03/04/2020 →

  • Day 17

    It was announced today that two NHS nurses working in Intensive Care Units around the country have died of the Covid-19 coronavirus. They were all in their 30s. I think of my eldest son working in that role in a hospital in the south of England. I think of little else. . CLP 03/04/2020 →

  • Day 16

    From childhood I remember guidance from Richmal Crompton’s “William” stories! How to track deer. It is dusk and as I make my way up the track into the west wind I see two red deer hinds grazing up to my left in the field just behind the hedge. I have my binoculars, but how close →

  • Under the Moon

    Turn through the gate And you’ll be at Peace Field A meadow, full of knee-high, soft, wild grasses Mixed with blues of corn flowers Yellows of buttercups Purple ragged-robins And browns and whites Of butterflies and moths On your left a mown path Winding through the orchard Still holding pink blossom On spreading boughs . →

  • Day 15

    April already! My day is consumed with detailed work, but it is still light enough for me to set out walking just after six in the evening. Bard Hill is covered in hawthorn bushes glowing with white blossom – it looks as if it’s snowed. I stop halfway up the traffic-free lane to listen to →

  • Rock Pipit

    Of all the birds in all the world My favourite bird is not at all that big It’s dull and brown Slender not round Without distinctive look   Male and female are indistinct You’d have thought one would make an effort But even so they get along And have a pleasant life They live by →