Little Lamb

  She spoke in tongues of old of stories long told Red raw and brimming with gold Her breathe darted against the cold Trees fallen by the wayside lonely in the night silenced by the wind, her voice – hushed … Continue reading


In the centre of the room
under a roof made of straw.
The hearth – rages
in leaping song,
the flames loop and wind,
Wood and timber – consumed by the lips of hell,
An ageless tale of the gods,
Her face sheltered beneath gently fallen locks,
Lit by the fire; the colour of the flame,
Resting her cheek on the lap of love –
In the shadows of endless heart,
Tending to the threads of scarlet strings,
Twined for eternity to ancient ties,
With hands – warm and wandering,
Grasping at the throne,
Beside the fireplace darling Hestia dwells.


A Call To Arms

A call to arms,
My heart;
Hostile in the dark.
As the sun beacons
Summons the grave
of darkness,
The moon regains
composed in the depth of night,
Upside down; like a bat of navigation
My insides sign with articulation,
A skeleton to breathe against the grating battle-cry
Eloped in time stood still,
Forever merging with the ghosts of Halidon Hill.

J.Calvert 2016

Edge of Reason

A little edge of reason –
Stealing back the sheets,
Dark lines and silhouettes,
Make for a tasty treat.
Eyes aglow, underneath the frayed strokes,
Below the canvas of misery,
In shaded cloaks of grey;
My mind is a temple, trudging the day.
Beneath the setting stones,
A darkness envelopes,
Crossing the tides of time,
To a place my soul mates lies.
The years pass by, on a foreign tide,
My heart belongs to this borrowed land,
My mind restless in a simpleness,
Of customs and folklore,
Yet the lair of witchcraft and rebels,
Entice and compel.
Forgotten by the dawn,
Time stretches on,
I become a distant memory,
A history left unsaid –
Unspoken for centuries,
Silent on the wind.

J.Calvert 2016