Pale primrose lies by the chicken pen
Bold Daffodils stand up in the border
Screaming Marsh Marigold calls from the pond
Subtle oranges somehow manage to cool down the tubbed Narcissi
Spring yells yellow in my garden
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Silvered gas bubbles catch the light
above the oak leaves do not stir
I’m blurry in the viewfinder
with a days full tears
walls of clear glass listen
bring distant shouts to my ear
I cannot now remember her clasping
the wound of hunger and hard work
Copyright © 2023 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Tired of it all
I close my eyes
yet few in this world hear it
see my hills
feel and taste their
ancient language
that waits for us all
Copyright © 2023 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Memories come in isolated flurries
like squalls on March winds
speak in a complexity of branches
bring distant shouts to my ear
Birds of prey cavort and hunt the air
grasp certainties in taloned feet
take them to ground
eat them
Copyright © 2023 Kim Whysall-Hammond
An apogee of pain
When all else disappears
Eyes closed you grimace
Clasping the wound
An eternity in seconds
Centred on you
Anything else is nothing
Until your breath returns
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Lillehammer in winter, ice diamonds in the snow
ice feathers on branches show the temperature
is very low
Deep cold in England, garden cobwebs become adorned
with days of hoar frost growth and the spiders
are folorn
The slow magic of ice delights me
Copyright © 2022 Kim Whysall-Hammond
This poem is a quadrille, it has exactly 44 words. It is posted in response to the prompt over at Dverse tonight. Mish has asked us for quadrilles using the word ice, or words formed from it.
Exmoor hedge
The Exmoor hedge is wildly strange
Who would plant trees on the top of a dry stone wall?
All across the moorlands and bogs
Overgrown hedgerows clamber and sprawl
Lambs and foals owe to the hedge
Winds are faltered by the sheltering trees
In a pitiless landscape
Animals and birds look for the leaves
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
I’m delighted to announce that a poem of mine is published today in the latest anthology from Hedgehog Press . The title of this anthology is The Song of the Hedgehog:
Once again, thank you Mark, for taking my poem, which is written from the point of view of a hedgehog looking for love……
The title of my poem , Hedgehogs, be not seen , is from Shakespeare.
Nine glorious islands
girdled by ocean
perched on basalt flaws
holes in the world wall
where heat seeps up
and magma roils underneath
makes rock and homes shudder
Copyright © 2022 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Thinking of the Azores at present, where, although it is stormy and the central group of islands are experiencing many mini-quakes, it’s a balmy 20C!
I’m delighted to tell you that two of my poems, “Singing the Cosmos” and “Hot Knife in Butter”, are now both online over at Soft Star Magazine. Both were written to this months theme of Aurora.
https://softstarmagazine.substack.com/p/singing-the-cosmos-and-hot-knife
“Singing the Cosmos” is an ode to cosmology and quantum physics, but please don’t let that put you off reading it!
“Hot Knife in Butter” is an attempt to describe the Northern Lights…..
The Cheesesellers Wife 