Poetry Blogs (rustle)
From the start she struck me as sturdy
Her dress always seemed to rustle
Too late I found what was underneath:
Ten stone of sinews and pure muscle
Now I was never known as a weakling
My pecs were moderately developed
Yet no man of modest stature could cope
When in her strong arms enveloped
The power of Clara overwhelmed me
As it would most normal fellows
Sunday 7th June 2020 11:47 am
While poring over dusty corners of an ancient night
I sang in darken'd evening flight, a voice edged
by the pain of doubt, a tempered blade to fight
an inner shout; the fearful dredge
of insomnia, the purgatory of my silent gaze;
remembrance too of sultry Australian dog days.
South-West karris loom ink-black, and rustle
as night-walkers, stepp...
Friday 27th October 2017 12:55 pm
This poem carries faint echoes of winter in a Mediterranean climate, in this case the South West of Western Australia; limpid skies, stormclouds threatening, people in overcoats walking hastily. Rather like an English summer, I would have thought!
And Now I'm Old
And now I'm old as softening apples
left forgotten on a sideboard
after a windy day,
the murmur of the evening room...
Thursday 19th October 2017 11:09 am