Reprise

Summer seemed over
gales, wind and rain here to stay -

until this almost-September
morning rolled in golden and bird-filled -

early thrushes catching their worms
gleam of turning blackberries

making way for blue bloom of sloes
blue sky scoured of clouds touching

blue sea and scattered white wings
of little boats, sailing again suddenly

on the waveless water and so much dew
on the grass, bathing my feet

heavy dew, drenching the grass
baptising my end of summer feet.

29th August 2010

Inventory - Kitchen

Five dinner plates, white with blue patterns
love their arrangement on the table

The green plate with its patterns of birds
holds the frittata blissfully

Grapes, strawberries, blueberries, raspberries
have an end of summer song and sing it sweetly

Cheese smoked on the Roseland is some way
from the French cheese oozing its aromas –
but they both delight in being cheese

Rosemary bread is prickly and oily -
we need that too.

Someone’s brought ‘herring in fur coats’
gleaming beetroot, merry spring onion

at one with the ‘salat iz crabov’ – all claws
and cold-water Northernness, looking for light

Oh and there’s bits of this and that –
frivolous spirals of pasta, pureed apples

in floral tea cups, one saying ‘Mother’ ...
And it’s all part of our laughter,

our woman-ish talk, our love for each other

Coming Home To Poetry

Summer’s been calling me outside
to walk her paths, smell her flowers
hear her birds, love her sea, explore
the whole world that’s her garden

prose invited me to visit her big country
where I can drive for miles
explore the hinterland, get myself lost
hang out in city bars, chatter to strangers

but today I hear poetry’s small voice
saying Don’t forget me ...
today I’m visiting that house in my head -
those corners and cupboards need
cleaning, a light held up to the cobwebs.


25th August 2010