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Unpolished Ink Feb 2024
Oh Vincent
whatever did you do
ripening fields of summer corn
and sunflowers of a brilliant hue
a shade no other eyes could see
except for God and you
Trying ekphrastic poetry
Unpolished Ink Feb 2024
Press your ear against the bowl
can you hear it ringing
I think the earth is singing
Unpolished Ink Feb 2024
Tread the line between sea and sand
hold the wind, take its hand
let it out
anyway you choose
walk a mile in the ocean's shoes
Unpolished Ink Feb 2024
A parcel from my Uncle Jim
could be short or tall or fat or thin
you never knew what lay within.

This one was large the paper thick
I'm sure at first I heard it tick
then it burped or I thought it did
there was something written on the lid.

My mother said we should take care
it could be anything in there
there was this noise, a sort of howl
like turkeys, followed by a growl

Out came streams of purple smoke
that smelled a bit like artichoke
it put out legs in yellow socks
right through the bottom of the box

Mum fetched her old and trusty broom
and then she chased it from the room
down the garden to the shed
then she leaned against the door and said

I'm having words with Uncle Jim
you never know when it comes from him!
Unpolished Ink Feb 2024
Early morning fingers
clutching at the sill
as I lay quiet, warm and still
half awake yet wrapped in night
not ready for the coming light
which filters softly through the blind
to **** my peaceful state of mind
Unpolished Ink Feb 2024
This night take me
fold me
shake me
fashion me a coat
a costume of stars
let me fly
let me be
let me finally be free
this night is not ours
it is mine
the headiest of wine
that you could never know
now say goodbye
and let me go
Unpolished Ink Feb 2024
To be a poet
Is not to burn the paper with your words
but to be heard
when drifting smoke of love and life is gone
the poet in us carries on
when ink and page and pen are embers
it is the beauty one remembers
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