yvette smith (LONDON)

I painted the trees as birds in flight

Wings pressed against the hour glass

The bird clock stirring

Under the television light

And the ' green bush' was a green bush

And the bush was a bright ray of light burning

I held my passion

Claimed a name for naming

Untrod, unfelt, half seen territory

Making walls my strangers

Making mountains

Captains of my heart

Heroic summits

Left clouds dreamers

And streamers trailing dove tail

Old engravings

Unknown Heiroglyphics from another life

There admist the whirling pools and crackling laughs

The sun and ease of day break

Were the broken, unspoken stones lye amidst the,

Epitaphs!

yvette m smith poet of uk

july 09