On foot
I had to cross the solar system
before I found the first thread of my red dress.
I sense myself already.
Somewhere in space hangs my heart,
shaking in the void, from it stream sparks
into other intemperate hearts.

On foot
I had to cross the solar system
before I found the first thread of my red dress.
I sense myself already.
Somewhere in space hangs my heart,
shaking in the void, from it stream sparks
into other intemperate hearts.
Blue Baltic waters
semi-sweet to taste
Pale rose rocked islands
Rising softly from the sea
And oh
Oh
All those Birches
So many Birch trees
tall straight trunks
massing on every surface
White wrapped
Or black inked?
Design icons
Bearing thin scrolls of bark
whose paleness
reflected summers northern light
into grateful eyes
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
For John Looker
Smoky tendrils reach out to sunlit waters
As Baltic sea mist creeps to Helsinki
Coming to market for Cloud berries perhaps
Ferries leave Market Square and slowly disappear
Once at our island destination
(A cold journey with no sights to see)
The jetty is disembodied
Fragmentary in fog
Walking reveals low rocky terrain
Suddenly a sunlit beach
From where we watch
A second larger island slowly appear
On a journey out of the haze
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Every year, the bright
Scandinavian summer nights
fade away without anyone
noticing.
One evening in August
you have an errand outdoors,
and all of a sudden
it’s pitch-black.
A great warm, dark
silence
surrounds the house.
It is still summer,
but summer is no longer
alive.
It has come
to a standstill;
nothing
withers, and autumn
is not ready to begin.
There are no stars yet,
just darkness.
The can of kerosene
is brought up from the cellar
and left in the hall,
and the lamp is hung up
on its peg by the door.
Day by day,
everything
moves closer
to the house.
By Tove Jansson
Blue Baltic waters
semi-sweet to taste
Pale rose rocked islands
Rising softly from the sea
And oh
Oh
All those Birches
So many Birch trees
tall straight trunks
massing on every surface
White wrapped
Or black inked?
Design icons
Bearing thin scrolls of bark
whose paleness
reflected summers northern light
into grateful eyes
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
I’m still trying to capture my delight in the islands around Helsinki in poetry
From Suomenlinna’s low cliffs
Several islands lie
Incomplete and rudimentary
Dusky pink in glinting waves
Seeming large
Until a ferry passes to provide scale
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Another part of the daily challenge I’m following for a short while. This poem is in response to the prompt ‘imperfect’.
….And yes, I skipped yesterday……..busy taking my eldest back to university………
Smoky tendrils reach out to sunlit waters
As Baltic sea mist creeps to Helsinki
Coming to market for Cloud berries perhaps
Ferries leave Market Square and slowly disappear
Once at our island destination
(A cold journey with no sights to see)
The jetty is disembodied
Fragmentary in fog
Walking reveals low rocky terrain
Suddenly a sunlit beach
From where we watch
A second larger island slowly appear
On a journey out of the haze
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Another part of the daily challenge I’m following for a short while. This poem is in response to the prompt ‘Journey’.