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The Quay
Here we are in the tidy, polished space that is the captain’s day cabin And here he is the Captain all stiff-white shirt black tie, braid epaulets And this, his First Officer taller, slimmer expressionless And here’s Danny, the union man from Northern Ireland, heavy set tidied up for this occasion See the eight crew Read more
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Why getting up and stepping out is better than drawing the blinds and giving up
last owlfirst blackbirdruffled wrencrow drifts from stricken oakgull sets down by upturned binstarlings strung out overheadpuffed up pigeon pursuing hensparrows clusterblue tit picking cherry blossomwoodpecker working through the parkmallard mutters while wandering pastrobin sings to robin across the pathoh! happiness of goldfinches ~ n.b. NaPoWriMo 2022 Day Thirteen: living with hope in your heart. CLP Read more
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About One in Two Hundred Thousands
Late evening, I walk past the guildhallpride of place epitomised in stoneVictoria’s solid figure set glum-facedstares unseeing across the city squareDid imperial majesty not make you happy, ma’am?Ahead a space, where a big block stoodreduced to its foundations with civic carefloor-by-floor removed kitchens, bathrooms, loungesdown-to-earth homes now groundedThis rebuilt city shifts againfrom its 1940s shattered Read more
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on Ukraine xxiii
reading a poemare you a star dancer ordreaming of dancing? ~ n.b. Thank you for reading my poem, ‘Star Dancer and Her School of Dance – Francis Picabia 1913‘ . We don’t know each other, but I wish you well. CLP 11/04/2022 Read more
Journey of Words 