Esmond Jones Poems
- The Gardener In the gloom of the dusty shed he pulls faces ...
- I Feel For It Dust. Rubble. Caterpillars. I’d known those ...
- Snapshot Stay put - don’t move a thread of silver hair. Be ...
- Sonnet 2. Do not be fooled-it is not on my back, with all ...
- Sonnet 1. When you have seen my music move the grass where ...
- She’s Not Impressed I’ve well and truly botched my laundry ...
- Alone On the moon I dig holes with a pelvis, throw in ...
Ex-coalminer/steelworker; retired in 1999 and took up the pen: lighter work, but only just! more »
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Comments about Esmond Jones
In the gloom of the dusty shed
he pulls faces at seed potatoes,
then shakes off their reek, snatches
back his breath from the underworld mould
and enters the sea-light of the greenhouse
where he grapples with a hose
that’s slipped his hold
as he’s hit by a heavy
of yellowing tomatoes.
Next, the villain in him will show:
he’ll cut flowers for madam’s vase.