Sheena Blackhall Poems

On the churchyard bench
I opened my sandwich lunch
Having passed and avoided two beggars
The benches sit in an arc
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Often I let the world slip off my edges
Like an old mountain. Heave life from my ledges
Into the Past’s morass of bogs and sedges
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Leonard Simon Nimoy, ‘Mr Spock'
Was born in Massachusetts USA
To Jewish immigrants from the Ukraine
His father first walked over into Poland
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I like haggis, Lochnagar
Rumblethumps, the colour purple
I like to stir my words
With a Scottish spurtle
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Is it worth it?
I'm 74 years old. Is it worth planting a hydrangea?
Is it worth buying a new carpet?
A mattress costs £200 and lasts ten years
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The Spikk o the Nor East Leid
The Romans focht at Bennachie gainst Calcagus chief o a clan
His name hid reets in Celtic lore, a legendary brave swordsman
Eumenius in the third century, caad North East tribesmen the Picti
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What Unseen Sorrow lies in waiting?
What unseen sorrow lies in waiting?
A shadow stretches on the lawn
Have I regrets? Yes, far too many
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Carpe Diem
In Afghanistan, a group of men
Are playing Buzkashi
Players on horseback or yak
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The bird of ill omen
Began with a fever
Shaking all over
Head, on fire
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My father
His marriage was consanguineous
Wedlock, a double blood knot
He sired two legitimate children
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