Tag Archives: Life

Riverine

My youngest son is rushing
from the sharp hills of adolescence
over rocks and stones, always onwards
like a river to an unfathomable ocean

His thoughts are deep
his soul ancient, older than the flow
kept within his banks

He bickers down valleys
sometimes stilled, mostly calm
until an overflow of joy
forces a burst, a breaking of the levee
and he talks, oh he talks
of his passions, fears and hopes
as a waterfall speaking to the wind

Who will dive into his depths
see the treasures within clear waters
bring them to the surface
for the world to see

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Stanza 2 References “The Negro Speaks of Rivers By Langston Hughes 

Sky

The sky seduces me
fills my eyes.
Staring out at grey rains today
blessedly cooling
remembering white noons
brick red sunsets, lemon dawns
whales breaching, jellyfish jellying
wind in hair and lungs
exhilaration and joy
memories that tip toe in
hand in hand with all my loves and woes
happinesses, griefs.
I hum songs of the sky
her shadows and canvases
float in my own internal ocean
drift and dream.

Each time I see her, I am joy.

 

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Leaving the Car

We should have cleaned her up
a bit more before the trade in
our long white estate car
veteran of long trips across borders
seven countries in seventeen days one time
repairs on her radiator didn’t want to hold
discovering pink fluid on the driveway
is never good, but especially when
heading out for Christmas lunch.
At the garage, handing over her keys
I spotted green moss in the window grooves
door pockets still holding old parking receipts
and smelt a whiff of yesterdays manure transport
felt ashamed of leaving the old steed in that way.

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Rocks

Unimaginably ancient, preserving moments in time;
billion year old pebbles from unknown floods
bones fallen into an ancient abyss
ten thousand year old footprints along an English estuary.
Sitting on a rock, you touch time.

Rocks move. They melt and set, erode to dust
and then the dust settles
forms new rock over time almost unimaginable.
This undulating plain formed at great depths
was thrust up to mountainous heights
now lies placid for your walking comfort.

Go find a rock
and travel in time and space.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Brief bloom

We are a brief bloom
On the fragile skin
Of a molten body
Encircling a massive furnace

We are a blossoming of sentience
With encrusted technologies
Craving wonder, hoping for company
Seeking knowledge and excitement

We truly are stardust
Our bodies built from atoms
Forged in successive stellar explosions
We crave the glories of the Universe

We are Human

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Silent Night?

The TV and Xbox are quiet
no more Elves fighting Dwarves
or befriending them

The hall way is full of scattered trainers, coats
and, strangely, various hats
cowboy, trilby, tiger, Nessie

Crowded into the room above
they laugh and whisper
thinking they are silent

Sleep eludes us all………

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Ah, the days when the house was crowded with teenagers….

London

Emerging from the Tube you clothe me
with dusty breath and ambient noise
I feel you living restlessly
lifeforce surging through centuries
pulsing through busy streets
I turn a corner and a garden churchyard
filled with lunchers and tourists
leads me to rest

Leaving you in a plane I reach down
pet your raised questioning head
sooth and smooth your black silky fur
I have run from you as you’ve
preyed upon my soul my heart
your begging eyes always
bring my return

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

My love poem to my old home town, lying quietly at present, but she will shake off the blues and arise……