The low dawn casts its shadow gently as pastel persimmon across the rooftops as blinds twitch in hope of snowfall
robins like paladins stand proudly atop fenceposts keeping watch over the people they love singing quiet whispers of strength
along the emerald and dull silver hedgerow the squabbles of nature seem calmer as if peace has befallen predator and prey and no man’s land is safe for a while
believing isn’t seeing believing is believing
Thanks for joining me for the last day of the advent calendar of poems. I hope you’ve enjoyed my scribbling over the past month and year. All your support is highly appreciated.
Here’s a quote from my favourite Christmas film, Scrooged: “ It’s Christmas Eve! It’s, it’s the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, we, we, we smile a little easier, we, w-w-we, we, we cheer a little more. For a couple of hours out of the whole year, we are the people that we always hoped we would be! It’s a miracle, it’s really, a sort of a miracle because it happens every Christmas Eve.”
The wreath shines in winter light scarlet holly glowing slices of scented citrus glistening like stained glass even long-dried pinecones have a revived golden aura emerald fir and spruce branches hold everything together this natural bracelet a truly precious and priceless gift.
Thanks for taking the time to read this poem. I hope you’re doing amazing this week and have some merriment planned over the festive period. Only 2 poems left of the calendar. Thanks for the ongoing support, it’s very appreciated.
The robins and gulls were dancing around the garden this morning and last night eyes on the ground oblivious to each other beaks tapping on frozen ground percussive plundering but there was nothing to find.
Tonight when they return they will enjoy a bounty of seeds and nuts a festive feast from us to them.
Thanks for reading. I hope your weekend is going well.
Frosted rooftops glinting in the lazy low winter sun tiny footprints of the blackbird stand frozen in time if only for a moment the chimneys sigh giving the milky blue sky its only clouds for the day the stillness feels safe the stillness feels peaceful the stillness feels hopeful.
I can’t believe it’s already December 10th. Only two more weeks worth of poems in this years advent calendar. Have you had chance to read many of the collection so far?
The worst kind of thief there is, is the one who steals another’s words then speaks them silver-lipped and serpent-tongued or writes them with crooked finger and poisoned pen without appreciating their weight or realising their value only seeing inked shapes on paper not the skill it took in crafting those shapes so when you’re caught and our expressions of love,hope,pain & hurt are reclaimed by us the ones who have enough courage to share our story with the world I hope you are wordless, you are voiceless a blank piece of paper blowing in the wind.
This poem was written following an issue where a few people were being plagiarised. The last straw was when war poetry was stolen from the pens of others , their name displayed as the original.
This is my feeling towards people who steal the words of others and say they are their own.
On Sunday (Halloween), I entered Black Bough Poetry’s #BBMicro2 contest.
The premise and rules were to create an original 4-line poem about Autumn or Halloween, post it on twitter using the above hashtag.
There was a panel of judges working throughout the day, all of whom are really talented poets.
A shortlist was announced on Monday and that’s when I got the first shock! I had made the shortlist! I couldn’t believe it as I’d read some of the other entries and I thought they were outstanding.
On Tuesday evening, the winners were announced. I came in 3rd. I will be celebrating this achievement at the weekend with my wife. It hasn’t really sunk in because I never imagined I’d get anywhere near the shortlist or finalist. It has given me a lot more self-belief in my writing! Hard work pays off.
You can see all the winners on by visiting @blackboughpoems on twitter. Or visit their website (blackboughpoems.com) to view the current books and anthologies they have for sale. Their Christmas/Winter edition has just been released and has some stunning artwork alongside incredible poetry.
My palms are worn leather handling hammer and chisel the sinew in my forearms is taut carrying marble creates strength my neck stands tired yet agile from always looking upwards but my days of crafting pedestals is over so I’ll wait for my body to reset and return to an even keel the cost of marble is too much once it’s been etched it can’t be returned even though I probably value the material more than the people I’ve placed upon it I’ll craft myself an armchair to rest and read on and watch the pedestals crumble.
Thanks for taking the time to read my poem. If you want to read more, feel free to browse the site.
I welcome Autumn as she drapes me in a blanket of bronze and straw-gold whispering seductive sweet promises of late lavender sunrises and delicious red sunsets she mentions velvet night-skies flecked with tiny diamonds and an occasional silent symphony by the Northern Lights even the rain softens under her presence guiding acorns to ground while winged sycamores float safely down and when the wind wraps itself around her it whistles happily carrying her scent of blackberry and pear feeding my nostalgia of years gone by everything about Autumn is chaos everything about Autumn is just so I long for her and her embrace to return by the time Winter shakes my hand with his icy fingers.
Thanks for taking the time to read this poem , I hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave any comments you may like.
The last of the dahlias were picked last week ruby red, imperial, majestic they ruled the garden so to let them drown in the relentless October rain would have been sacrilege instead, we slipped them into a glass-vase coma keeping them alive until scarlet turned to rust and petals slipped away and we were ready to say our farewells
softened stems were carried and placed among the compost pile so memories of their life can grow a new family of flora and their majesty return.
Thanks for taking the time to read my poem. Please feel free to have a look around my site for more of my work.