Tin Horse

A horse
made of tin
lay baking
in the sun
beside the outhouse,
mama’s wine glass
resting on the gravel
where she left it last
rocks
glistened in the heat
my eyes sore
from the lemon-grass trees
pine needles prick
the back of my feet
my nostrils flare with dust
black sheep
and
red dog licking at my feet
all around
baron
carcasses
dry
blend with dirt
like roots to the earth,
crows to pick their bones
Papas skin
burnt
sleep he does not know
Hummingbirds
call to the blue bells bush,
The horizon beacons across
the remote
like western light touching
the window pane,
in quiet isolation
This is where I call home.

Amazon Queen – Revised

The sky sleeps

 in the soft flow of night

The wind whispers under a cloak 

of black and gold,

She glitters below the leaves, 

 of broad-leaved evergreens 

Above the canopy, rain falls

Of turquoise hues 

and silky moss 

faerie orchids stalk

Her heart line like an exotic 

capillary-flower 

Etched, deeply profound

A kapok, 

tendrils strangling its host,

leaving behind a haunted fig 

A ghostly fog –
Sensually, night slips into dawn

Burnt orange 

sunrise 

She, the protector

of all that are gone

Singing a warrior song – 

Dazzling Queen of the Amazon.

Words J.Calvert written 2016, revised 2017. 

Winter’s Final Note-Revised

Winters Final Note In sleet and snow the land stretched below and the cold earth moaned a mournful cry The skies overhead bleed in white – drops fall beneath a sinking sky, harrowing unspoken sighs Running rivers rest in silver … Continue reading

Ruffled Wings

 

I’ll undo the little threads
Fitted to my skin
Unfold each softly twined strand,
Let my wings reside in flutter
Behind my shoulders
drawn
In shades of copper
trimmed with gold
The scent of lilies float,
over a pond of fronds
and branches fold
under slippers wove in silk
and ribbon ties loop
Ruffled wings
Of feathers and plumes
Windswept
In tangled array
Tethering me to this place
Like draperies unbridled
To reveal
The gentle pleats of flight.

J.CALVERT 2016

Vintage Stones and Flowers Bent

I went AWOL
For a while
Lost in the clouds
Under feathers of plush-downs
Quills and spines,
and buried beneath
a tree
and vintage stones
and flowers bent and overgrown,
It was a blissful place
of undergrowth,
Where I visualised myself
floating softly in a pond of peace,
It was soothing and calming
and my mind was at rest
But here I am
back with my thoughts stirred.

J.CALVERT 2016

Lightshade

Dripping wet

Suspended in misty throws

Of tinted blue

and shaded sun

The scent of rain mingled with black diamond bells

The chisel of the trunk deep-rooted,

marked a hundred years old,

She,

Tainted by the woods,

Blemished,

Wings discoloured,
Breathing laboured,

Bruised ankles

and swollen limbs

The ground tough on bare feet

Carving tattoos in red-ink,

Moths of grey and dull

Flitter above her nose

Little lightshades

A veil to protect the face

A velvet ribbon drawn behind her waist

Tying the threads of the day

Tethering between the early mornings of May.

Rabbit Run

 

Build a kingdom,
On noon,
A royal headache and prattle,
Boys, watch out,
The queen is on the lookout,
Heads will roll about,

Shock me, with your razor tongue,
The palace likes a little drama,
Theatrical and affected,
Pleasure driven,
The power of the reign,
A dangerous game,
The hunter likes to hunt, the little cottontails,

Run rabbit, run,
She will skin you alive,
A fur wrap around her neck,
And doe eyes; brown and bleak,
A pawn in her game,
The prey, the hunter,
Merely a causality, for her entertainment,
Your heart a trophy, mounted on the wall,

The scent of fear, her preferred perfume,
Cutthroat,
Tempts and allures,
To take the bait,
Trapped, in a snare,
Too late,
Run rabbit, run.

 

 

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

Thames Twilight-by Kim 

The very talented Kim from Writing in North Norfolk, with the beautiful poem Thames Twilight. 

https://writinginnorthnorfolk.com/thames-twilight/

Orange Blossom

Broken by the heaviness of the leaves,
The weight of the buds
And the densely packed fronds
Spouting in the pond
The scent of orange blossoms
and lily
Mingling on the flow of the tide,
The burden of the current
floods,
The surge swells
of froth and foam
floating on the ripples
perplexed by the rise and fall.