‘Reflection’
All that organising, layout, input and corrections come to fruition. I am delighted with my new book.
Reflection
I have been working for several weeks on my second book of poetry, ‘Reflection’, which went to the printer last week. I collect it on November 8th. Below is the cover, from a photograph that I took on Dunwich beach on the evening of the longest day.
Waiting for a wind
Have you ever visited Covehithe in Suffolk? A village gradually being taken by The North Sea. They wait in quietus for their final voyage on a sea they knew as well as land, which seeks again to soak their limbs. Anchored firmly by a shattered church raised for transfer to …
When did you last see Truth?
An appropriate question for this time of disruption. When did you last see Truth? It has slipped its leash and scrambled off unnoticed in the frenzied melee of baying myths. When did you last hear Truth? Its studied quietness is difficult to catch amidst the raging howl of …
Lesser Known Philosophers.
Much of the wisdom in this poem was heard nearly fifty years ago, over many sessions in an isolated village pub, in the north of Suffolk. All the wise men quoted are no longer with us. Some taste wisdom in another tongue digesting Descartes ‘Cogito ergo sum’* or Nietzsche’s more …
The month of the Summer Solstice
The rich month of June brings so much to enjoy. Now the Dog Rose shyly flowers soft blushes amidst hard thorns, only six weeks now to ripened corn. Sounds to lift hope, insistent purring Turtle Doves, close by, call for company. Caressing cries that murmur joy. Zephyrs skim the meadow’s …
On the Cards
Here is a ‘post-Christmas’ poem. We look forward to receiving updates from friends, but with age the message on the Christmas cards starts to change. Cover image marked, we seek the inner message, annual brief updates from distant acquaintances signal reminders of an earlier existence and place, prompts to …
Listen?
This is a sad twist on an old tale — a carol for our present circumstances. Why won’t Wise Men deliver their gifts? They have displayed the glittering promise from the backs of their awkward mounts, circling endlessly in the featureless waste. Shepherds cannot point the way, they search …
Unexpected
There, just inside the threshold are your treasures beach gleaned sea glass and gathered hagstones. The first pebble-tumbled, shaped and smoothed. The other’s pierced form thought to void witchcraft. Wire strung hagstone columns guard our house. Myth tells that magic wont travel over water and holed stones, wrongly thought sea …
Myth and Memory Flow
Rivers have a special attraction in childhood, a different world from the hard land. Most Suffolk rivers take a leisurely approach feeling no rush to reach a restless sea, they mardle, drifting on the gentle declines of soft beds, slipping slowly past low banks. These are rivers of low ambition, …
Ripeness is all
About sixty figs are slowly ripening on my Brown Turkey fig tree. The second is mine wasps had found the first fat fig ripeness is the prize!
Another Insignificance?
This poem was triggered by an experience in early July, during the unusually hot weather. The undulating Jet Steam has seduced the Linden into bloom with prolongued heat. Cymes and their protective lime-green bracts extravagantly jewel the darker leaves. Intoxication beckons across scorched grass, a smell of honey laced …
Complex Signals
I read this last night at the Cafe Poets first meeting in Halesworth Library, after the usual meeting place, ‘Pinkys’ had been burnt in a serious fire. Given the current heat wave it was like reading in a sauna! It was a follow up to my other longer poem that I …
White-out
Snow is threatened for us again this afternoon, so here is another Tanka to welcome it: Each flake steals colour silent theft’s benign softness a camouflaged coup that covers all in fragile crystal immobility.
A Tanka for Dru’s Birthday
I wrote and sent this poem to our good friend Dru, on the occasion of an important birthday for her. Consider the time it takes the sea to polish stones to bright perfection life has done the same for you but in only eight decades A …
Raison d’être
I was thinking about social isolation. This poem is perhaps one concept of how it can come about. This poem was recently chosen by The Suffolk Poetry Society for publication in their magazine ‘Twelve Rivers.’ I do not look back there is too much to see some …
Who Am I Today?
If you have not yet reached the need for the morning ritual described in this poem, know that you have it to look forward to. Is it the aging husband with enlarged prostate? The asbestos handler with pleural plaque? The retired runner with calcified cartilage and the mysterious cyst, …
Corvus corone corone
This was written last Summer for a competition, for a gallery displaying art involving the subject ‘Crows’. Nothing was heard, so I suspect, at best, its still on the wing! I see you Crow. I watch your studied nonchalance. Your oil drip eye gives nothing back green gleam on …
Morning breeze
This Haiku came very quickly to me this morning, as I watched the bamboo outside my bedroom window. Invasion outside – the breeze trembles bamboo leaves like swarming locusts.
Equivalence
This poem was written whilst on a river trip from Amsterdam to Budapest in May 2017, whilst I was awaiting the results of a biopsy to determine what sort of cancer I had. Here in Bamberg we are buying history grateful that no symptoms show the guides are …