Stirring coffee (NaPoWriMo 24)
In truth, there is always something over coffee other than how nice it is that the sun is out, or that bread has gone up again but is two for one in Asda. Perhaps the stirring is a metaphor for...
View ArticleStings (NaPoWriMo 25)
When I think about his eyes, sometimes grey in the light yet blue in the shade, I am back in that wood on a windy day, the kind that makes your eyes sting. There are nettles, brambles that scratch your...
View ArticlePoetry Event 26.04.13
I was lost in a language which merged old into new yet felt something catch in my throat at the dog in the sink. Then grief was moulded into a sonnet, then another, and a kingfisher flew across the...
View ArticleHair today… (NaPoWriMo 27)
Today someone cut off my hair, and it fell into tumbleweed mounds on the floor. ‘Do you like it?’ she said, to the back of my head as I wistfully looked at the door. ‘Oh yes, it looks great,’ I lied...
View ArticleThe Ivy (NaPoWriMo 28)
The ivy has nothing to prove. It weaves its way through holly, oblivious to edges that can graze the skin. It climbs better than the climbing rose, ignores the thorns and chokes the buds. It...
View ArticleSunday (NaPoWriMo 29)
Into my eyes as I read Auden (taking a sip of dry white) the air blows kisses like a butterfly wing. Cherry petals in pink-cheeked mounds splutter and spread their fading confetti, dusting the...
View ArticleUrban Cliff (NaPoWriMo 30)
This poem was written as a tribute to the beautiful peregrine falcons that nest on top of the Nottingham Trent University building every year. Yesterday the third chick hatched. She sits. Yellow eyes...
View ArticleThe Test
Something under the smile burns. Acid hopes now rest on four short questions. One pen, one pencil, one eraser, side by side like the Queen’s Guard, facing inspection. Turn over the white paper;...
View ArticleForest floor
They watch in silence, some one hundred feet high others still saplings, yet none can scorn- they only pardon as children stoop and scuff earth, dodging the stings of youthful theft. Like...
View ArticleGrowing up
One minute the rain smashes the cherry blossom into a pink confetti across the path, the next the sun nudges through to dry up the massacre. This reminds me of my son, lying beside an ants nest,...
View ArticleThe Feathered Bed- Part One
This is the first part of a story I am writing. If you enjoy it and would like to see more, please ‘like’ and ‘follow’ me! Oh- and share too… The Feathered Bed Gemma looked down at the scrawl she had...
View ArticleSaturday in the Park
Do you ever find yourself sitting on a bench in the park, on a glorious Saturday morning, enjoying the peace, when suddenly you are targeted by that horror that is…a wedding party? This was my morning…...
View ArticleBy the river
Fingers entwined, we don’t need words. He, lost in aliens and thwarting the bad guy and me, humming to the Canada Geese chicks, realizing that they are ugly in their cuteness. A pause, to sit on the...
View ArticleLetting go
She watches as he jumps. He catches the branch with taloned feet And keeps the day. She cocks her head. He squeaks And watches as she flies. Away. *** He does not hear. His eyes Are closed....
View ArticleRain at Trent Bridge
The huddled few, like beetles on a snow drift, wait. Another hour and, perhaps the outlook will be brighter. Intermittent showers, they said. Fifteen overs gone, an odd cheer for an infrequent...
View ArticleMy first review
Please take a look at my review of the event ‘Say Sumthin 5′ on Saturday 15th at Nottingham Playhouse: http://www.heartofglassmagazine.com There are links in the review to the wonderful Wooden Arms, a...
View ArticleBack into the box
He walks down the bus to find a seat. She walks to the newsagents, to find a paper then makes her way back to a leaking tap and a peeling red front door. She smooths out the sheets; shakes the duvet....
View ArticleHappy Afternoon
Happy Afternoon In this moment I see the hanging heads of every tree and yet- against the blue-washed sky they seem to smile back at me. The squeals that pierce the air from kids (with insufficient...
View ArticleA little light reading…DP Challenge
Is it really a challenge to write something humorous? Let me see.. I could write about the ‘phone call from my son’s head teacher: ‘Oh, hello, is that Angela?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Er, this is Jonathan, the...
View ArticleDP Challenge 2- thoughts
Happy day As the Net refused to speak, I took a minute to reflect. What had I achieved today? Washed two loads of laundry. Organised a school uniform. Cleaned out the hamster. And the goldfish....
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