Gillian Commerford Poems

There are no good days
and no bad days.
They all start out the same-
you wake
...

Once I overheard a middle-aged Jewish woman
talking to her Rabbi
telling him of how she and a friend
travelled to Auschwitz
...

Sheltering beneath the trees
bees buzzing
benevolence
tiny white papery blossoms
...

And so there are the Dark Gods too
The Gods of Pain
we all worship them
although we never admit-
...

I am here to serve
to discover the wisdom within me
and to remember the joy I knew
before I was born.
...

We circle and dance around each other
two battered, bruised boxers
whose only shared language
is the blows we exchange.
...

The sea
Soft blue silk
Gently wraps itself around the land
So that for a moment
...

Does God need our praise
our theories, our dogma
or would He much rather
we spent our days
...