Poesie de Paris
Current racing, yet the boat holds still;
moored fast beside the edges of the Seine.
...
Under the blood moon at the Luna eclipse,
shone the golden liver eagle.
Looking for her twin
her mate, gone to knit a scarf
...
Good luck,
lucky black slinky silent cat
flat
stroking fur, shiny, long,
...
And so to golden days
Golden plough marked, ear ripened corn, on
a hill sloping towards the hidden river bed,
...
A Long Song
The singer performs
a wine fuelled song
...
James and his brother
were doting on each other as they pretended to play.
They were thinking things out, like they had been told,
They should be more grateful and not so bold
...
Love of You (from him) Line count 27
To be with you,
to talk to you
...
Memories too hard to memorise
I’m left with memories
I cannot stand to memorise
...
later)
Old Tree
Old Tree. 17th January 2009
Old tree, tall, silky –
a figured hand
stripped bare of bark,
exposing the reality of age:
Moss clinging on one side of
each scrawny branch
reaching for the sky,
and
firmly standing on the ground
immersed in green flood light
in the dark night,
she eerily waves
silently
saying so many different things
through rain, snow and wind.
And ages past.
Last night the golden dog fox
stood, awesome
by her side
aligned, perched, on the seat that rests
in the moonlight.
By Kathleen Bartholomew