Category Archives: Friends

Friday poem: Though you are in your shining days

Though you are in your shining days
Voices among the crowd
And new friends busy with your praise
Be not unkind or proud
But think about old friends the most:
Time’s bitter flood will rise
Your beauty perish and be lost
For all eyes but these eyes.

by William Butler Yeats


They bend and stoop

They bend and stoop
In a flurry of action
Grabbing great handfuls of snow
Crushing and moulding
Until a snowball lofts high
Arcing across the winter afternoon
Plopping down on a vivid coat
Chilling an unprotected neck
Cries of laughter and outrage fill the cold air

Copyright © 2015  Kim Whysall-Hammond

Re-blogged from 2015….


She flies in to a land below the sluice gates
under leaden  wintry skies
braving bone chilling, joint stiffening cold
to regain a lover and husband,
surprising family and friends
with a festive presence.
He cossets her adoringly
treasuring the time they are together
sharing memories of a hot Penang wedding  a world away
that celebrated a fealty lasting across oceans and years.
Tenderness and  connubiality,
happiness built on avocations and contrasts.
Cherishing time together with all those they love
partaking companionably
endearing us all to them.
Soon, she will travel back
to the other side of the planet
to summer heat and extended family
that now stretches globally
to a tall Dutchman.


Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

For Nesa and Edgar


Dragon Revealed

In my poem The Colour of Dragons, I was considering what colour a dragon might be. I was planning a present for a very good friend, who may just like Dragons ever so slightly (English understatement here).

Here is my first picture of Larry’s Dragon:

dragon head

Another will follow next Monday….




Long legged boys
Filling my sofa
Controllers in hand
Deep laughs mingle with shrill cries
As Black Ops rolls
Every weekend they come to call
Filling my sofa
Littering shoes in my hall
Then are gone in a flash as dinners beckon
And the sofa is empty

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond



Foggy days in old Amsterdam
When rooftops hide in the gloom
Hoar frost sparkles tattered bushes
Tram windows mist up

Flying home to unexpected chill
House cold as a tomb
Huddling around an electric heater
Sipping tea, as the gas boiler struggles

Bright morning, glowing sunshine
Garden frosted like a Christmas cake
Hens fluffed up against the chill
We miss the warmth of good friends

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Thank you Edgar, for the photograph…..