Tag Archives: poetry

At Stratford with William

From above I watch the story unfold
Bask in dense poetry
The pleasure of  words and phrasing
So pertinent to the action
To the people laying out their very lives in front of us
I laugh uproariously then
Gasp as the knife plunges
Hold my breath
Knowing from schooldays the inevitable end
But hoping this time, here, now
That tragedy can somehow not play out on this stage
That all must come right even for this poor foolish reprobate
Sit shaken, still, grieving
Then
Stand and  roar my appreciation
My hands clap fast and hard  above my head
I grin in sheer pleasure at the craft and art
That has been spun out this evening
As the story concludes and the players bow

Copyright © 2017  Kim Whysall-Hammond

We will be seeing Macbeth at Stratford this week!

Advertisements

There are never enough photos of Pico

There are never enough photos of Pico
Says he, as he takes yet one more
The light has changed again
And the mountain looks about to roar
We’ve flown over and around her
Driven along her lower slopes
But the best view is away from her
From little Horta’s shore

The mountain slumbers on
Fuji slopes gracefully curving down
She glows rose in the dawns light
By midday she can glower and frown
Clouds drape her and embrace her
Shadowing scree and walled in grapevine
However far we travel away from her
Somehow that volcano is always mine

Copyright © 2015 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Re-blogged from 2015

Road to Nowhere

We stumble along, believing we hold the map
Believing we guide our path or someone does somewhere
From the darkness to the light and back
The bird flies through the drinking hall and is gone
Leaving memories, echoes and silence
All we are is memories and echoes
All we can do is try to fracture the silence.
 

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

 

Re-blogged from 2016

Cave

Deep in a volcanic sea cave
crimson crabs hang from the ceiling
scuttle along walls, clattering  pincers
gather in their hundreds
in affront
as our boat noses in,
engine stilled.

We have raced across open ocean
slamming over waves
to be claustrophobically  enclosed
looked down upon by crustaceans
never before have I felt
such an visitor to my own planet
insignificant in the face of the whale and the dolphin
and now these outraged crabs.

Copyright © 2018 Kim Whysall-Hammond

The lives I have lived

“If I live to be very old, all my memories of the glory days will grow vague and confused, till I won’t be certain any of it really happened. But the books will be there, on my shelves and in my head – the one enduring reality I can be certain of till the day I die.”

Helen Hanff

 

The lives I have lived

My sons, I have tried to give you gifts for your lives ahead
Standards to live by, skills to help earn your bread
But the greatest gift I can give
Is the lives I have lived
And the ability to live them too

The world of words I have shown you
Filing your young ears with stories each night
Weaving your own world into a fantasy one
Showing how to do things right
The gift of reading and living lives in stories
These are the lives I have lived
And they are my gift to you

Even when I am old and frail
I will still have these lives to live
Don’t let them tell you my life is worthless
When there is all that stories and dreams can give
I am living a wonderful life in the real world
And I trust that you will as well
when life is not what you want, remember my gift to you
Copyright © 2016  Kim Whysall-Hammond

Re-blogged from 2016.