Sunday, 1 January 2017

Favourite Poem

Here are six of my favourite poems from the Poetry Friday collection. Leave a note in the comments on which is your favourite, or maybe nominate your own. 

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.

Moustache Clinger
Grampy’s hot chocolate
is going cold
I watch his whiskers waver
in the whistle of his breath.
The skin on his drink
is grey and wrinkled
like the skin on his face.
I stir constantly,
to make sure the skin doesn’t form on mine.
And then drink from the spoon
because no one is watching.

With a snort, a snuffle, a sniff
Grampy is awake.
‘Oh hot chocolate,’ he declares
as if it’s a surprise.
He takes a mouthful
and smacks his lips.
The skin clings to his

She stares.
Her eyes drinking in
every detail of the familiar.
How the back has more hair now
than the head.
The belly is rounder
The legs look shorter.
His arm still bulge
with muscles and strong shoulders.
He doesn’t smile.
He used to.

Does she love him?
Or does she love a memory of him
which lurks in the shadows
of her mind?
Is she the cause of what she sees?
Or would it have happened
without her?
If she leaves, will he recover
that lost sense of joie de vivre?
And then, would she love him

Slow realisations
Sometimes the penny
doesn’t drop,
because you
don’t want to let it go.
You don’t want to know
what’s scaring you,
staring you
in the face.
So you hold that penny
digging fingernails into
your palm until it hurts.
But you still keep hold
of that precious

The week
became a month
became a year
you changed your hair
I change my postcode
we were strangers
best friends
separated by

In between kisses
A shared bag of chips and
a couple of silk cut.
Blowing smoke rings
in between kisses.
Smiles in our eyes,
and smiles in our bellies.
Then with salt on our fingers
I walk you home.
Laughter in the air,
whispers on the doorstep
in between kisses;
Trying not to wake
your mum and dad.
One long lingering kiss.
then the landing lights comes on.
You turn the key,
I skip home.


  1. I can't decide really. The last one is lovely, romantic, full of joy and happiness but the Slow realisations one although realistic is somehow touchy and it made me to read it again and again. And the first one has lots to do with imagination i guess and it drew my attention as well as it has a sense of mystery from my point of view.

    1. Thanks, I can't decided either and I am not even sure these are my top six.

    2. so far I've had two votes for the last one and one for Apart and one for the first one :-)

  2. Slow realizations, Moustache Clinger, Voyeurism, Apart win the first prize:-). The poems are great!