Friday, 30 December 2016

Poetry Friday 26

So 26 consecutive weeks of poetry on a Friday, that’s half a year of poetry. Not bad for a non-poet. 
Three poems for you today. All works in progress. Any feedback welcome.

For audio click here 

Silky stockings stretch
over her fingers
then slide over sleek, shapely legs.
Her black dress tumbles and ripples,
then is soothed by hand.
She dabs perfume on her neck
as she slips into her heels,
and inspects herself in the
full-length mirror.
Her eyes are different from mine.
Mine approve, admire, adore.
Hers find fault, see lines,
admonish for
the pastry at breakfast,
the skipped gym class.
And curse her mother
for the hips she inherited.
She sits on her bed and lights a cigarette;
blowing out smoke from her ruby lips
Then she checks the time,
extinguishes the light and
goes out into the night.
All the time unaware
that this secret artist
was painting her soul.

Duvet Days
A snowbound moon
bristles through the trees.
Blurry eyes grow accustomed
to the sound of the alarm.
Ahead of you is the lonely road,
just crows and starlings for company 
as the sun struggles to rise.
Here is sleepy-head warmth.
So cling to the duvet 
in the forlorn hope 
that the alarm has rung 
in error. 

It snows in Athens.
It snows in Athens;
         it snows in Athens!
I know it snows in Athens.
Because there’s a snowflake
on the end of my nose.
A snowflake on my nose.
My nose in Athens.
It snows in Athens.
I came for blue sky, sunshine.
not for a cold nose.
A nose with snowflakes on the end.
but a snowflake on the end of my nose
tells me what I now know;
It snows in Athens.

Thanks for supporting me through this project. This might be the last one, it seems a good place to leave it, but I’ve said that before.

No comments:

Post a Comment