Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light;
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Drifting away down
under a dread
uncertain future
drowning
you are the light
at the top
of the water
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
For all those helping us through lockdown
When grief and loss slowed my dance
you were there
not to dance for me
but to sooth the chill
to kiss my soul better
so that once more
I danced
could find words and warmth
live again
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Beauty sans charm may captivate
But does not last, for look
It’s merely like the fishing boat
That floats without the hook
By Capito (around 600BC)
This poem is from the Dover edition: Great Short Poems (Ed Dorothy Belle Pollack)
She feeds on her memories
lives as best she can
not needing to work
but building the garden
as he might have wanted.
Enjoying the Sun that he cannot
waiting without despair
until the end.
Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond
After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open
With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
After a while you learn…
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth…
And you learn and learn…
With every good-bye you learn.
Was it the red hair
that so entranced us?
The strong nose
on a strong young man?
Or that capable stocky young woman
who didn’t moan at first frost?
Where did we get our blue eyes from after all?
In the snows of almost perpetual winter
and at the warm shores of the middle sea
we met them, loved them,
raised their children.
And left them behind.
Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond
First blogged in 2018…..
Soft as a
he brushes my eyes
wafts past on a scent
intoxicates
makes senses dull
and mind lax
this breeze is
also my breath
in and out, in and out
like the waves
that shangle at ocean’s edge
I am washed ashore
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Something rises within, a washing clean of care
a pleasuring in the day, the view, the loved one
simple feeling, untramelled
yet this joy is stolen so easily
You steal it from yourself as you watch
the seeming perfect lives of others
compare our lives and families
I watch you do this and weep
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Inspired by The Total Abundance Project
Blood and bone lie
between those yesterdays
and today
family threaded across years
photos in boxes
fragile memories within
all too mortal heads
even putting dates to births and marriages
starts to shine a light
illuminating the space
between us
bringing you home
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
