Oct 2016
You taste the birth
of winter on your tongue,
that smack of cold.
Grass slobbered
in frost,
streetlights on
at half six,
stars like splinters
of glitter
in the night.
If we could touch them
they’d feel soft
as pillows,
glow bright as torches
to guide us the way home.
of winter on your tongue,
that smack of cold.
Grass slobbered
in frost,
streetlights on
at half six,
stars like splinters
of glitter
in the night.
If we could touch them
they’d feel soft
as pillows,
glow bright as torches
to guide us the way home.
Written: September 2016.
Explanation: To mark National Poetry Day on 6th October, I wrote 25 poems over the course of eight days, and sent one poem each to one of 25 of my Facebook friends. After some deliberation, I am now posting the poems on HP (in order of when they were written), albeit not all in one go. None of the poems are about their recipients. All feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.
Explanation: To mark National Poetry Day on 6th October, I wrote 25 poems over the course of eight days, and sent one poem each to one of 25 of my Facebook friends. After some deliberation, I am now posting the poems on HP (in order of when they were written), albeit not all in one go. None of the poems are about their recipients. All feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older pieces will be removed from HP at some point in the future.
