linda jenkinson

linda jenkinson Poems

A special breath has been whispering
Around my neck of late-
Some breezes cool us on hot days
Evaporate our accumulated heats.

Give me sparkling new air and rainbows
A deep blue ocean that I can swim in
Green grass and trees that shadow with ease
Pass me that full bodied red.

Come and talk to me
As I sit on the naughty chair.
I seem to be surrounded by nannies.
They do not yield sweet milk.

He speaks his language in a soft tongue and voice
His alphabet undecipherable
Yet nothing guttural gutters forth to my ear
No words I cannot bear to hear-

On my knees of delight holding tight
To the sight of all the English colours
The sweetest named peas march before me...
All named historically.

There is a certain amount not known
Who would want to weigh it?
Who wants to peek around static mountains corners

Run your thumb along my jugular
Your finger along my spine
Lest I forget
The size of a perfect sky.

If we can now regenerate several parts ourselves
Will we always know what's new?
Will my new bladder remember old habits
And leak when I laugh too hard?

There was a certain air about her.
She exhaled it in deeply measured stutters as
I watched her weave her way through the raindrops
Harbour bound.

It's not a nunnery I need
It's a secular minaret.
I would have to go down
To play the marionette occasionally

This world has become quite mad
And is running screaming
Towards banality.

The bed of our stretch of the beck was
Summer shallow and swift moving.
It thought it was a brook sometimes
A rocky pebbled frolic that

Gone shouted echoed back empty
Here and there are voices contained.

Murmured gethsemanes


No appeasements.
We know lost loves.
Right into the old places.

for cesar

Still holding the glow of last summer


During a night in an expected car
I saw how far a long friendship
Can hit.

The Best Poem Of linda jenkinson


A special breath has been whispering
Around my neck of late-
Some breezes cool us on hot days
Evaporate our accumulated heats.
Yet it's cold here now-
Is that why the breath
Is so warm?
It hits the back of my neck
Even when the breather isn't around
Which astounds me.

I would breathe back of course
But first I must inhale deeper.

Why rush in front of breezes?

linda jenkinson Comments

Brian Routh 27 November 2005

i love your poetry......fills me with warmth......what a joy!

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Peter A. Crowther 21 November 2005

I am very much enjoying reading your poems. They are thoughtful, original and well crafted.

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Thomas Viruvelil 09 October 2005

Your poems are really good with that special satisying feeling for the reader after going through them.I would like to have your feelings about my poems

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