Let’s dance cry russet leaves
that whirl, spin and flutter
Let’s dance shouts thunder
to his parner the lightning
Let’s dance says the tornado
as she waltzes along
through an unprepared island
Copyright © 2022 Kim Whysall-Hammond
This poem tells of an unexpected tornado this week on the Isle of Wight here in England. It has been written in response to Rebeccas September Poetry Challenge over at :
The tornado can be seen on the BBC:
Early frost whitens the morning
All I’d hoped to do this summer
is now lost in autumn’s darkening.
I cannot sleep, am adrift, a thousand miles alone
but moonlight fills my heart
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Shafts of cellulose stretching to the sky
Leafed about with green
No autumn yet, no crimson stains
the future remains unseen
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The first two lines are from a short poem posted here in 2017….
This poem is posted for earthweal
Heart broken she withdraws
as every winter
into dark soil
as every winter
The promise of the stars nightly turning
the sinking and turning of constellations
the track of planets wandering across the sky
say that she will return
Time past she was encouraged
by midwinter fires
now we trust to orbital mechanics
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Heart broken she withdraws
as every winter
into dark soil
lets warmth seep from all
The promise of the stars nightly turning
the sinking and turning of constellations
the track of planets wandering across the sky
says that she will return
Time past she was encouraged
by midwinter fires
now we trust to orbital mechanics
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Autumn leaves colour lawns orange
Litter roads red
The long slide into the cold begins
Advent madness beckons
Like a siren
Calling us onto the rocks
Of family festivities, hidden lonelinesses, retail greed and envy
Soon rooftops will grow neon reindeer
Tinsel will be worn around necks at office parties
All too soon
It will be Christmas
Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Autumn leaves colour lawns orange
Litter roads red
The long slide into the cold begins
Advent madness beckons
Like a siren
Calling us onto the rocks
Of family festivities, hidden lonelinesses, retail greed and envy
Soon rooftops will grow neon reindeer
Tinsel will be worn around necks at office parties
All too soon
It will be Christmas
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
I’m in Amsterdam this week, and so have left you this poem which rather captures my feeling about the next few months I’m afraid!
Cant remember where
Or when.
But in the busy travellings of last week,
alone in a lane of green leaves,
Stood a single tree.
Clad in oranges and crimsons,
lighted with brief yellows.
Spectacular.
These days,
I have just two seasons clothes,
Summer and Winter.
‘Layering’ is supposed to fill the gap
And so, I sit here
Jeans, T-shirt, hoodie,
slightly chilled.
Where once I would have had
an autumn coat
With thin woollen gloves.
Autumn clothes,
Like the tree.
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The Cheesesellers Wife 