Today's poet

[freckle]

NO TWA for me
Pneumonia put paid to that
Anni Waltz instead

Gosh hope your OK now Merry, poor you x

[stevefoster]

Gosh hope your OK now Merry, poor you x

Recovering slowly marra, not run a step for nearly 3 weeks, best get training for the waltz

[Harry H Howgill]

The Gift

You brought me mangoes
and set them on my table.
Unprepossessing, thick-skinned,
those hard green fruit.
Only the hint of a blush
suggesting that within.
With quick, deft hands
you pared their bodies
and slitting the wet, orange flesh
you unleashed the sun
...the moon, the stars...
and how we devoured them,
lips sticky from their juice,
tasting the sweetness
that we once thought
we would never taste
again.

Wowee. Just fabulous.

[Hes]

Evening all! Bit late in the day I know. Thanks so much for the great feedback on my poem. That is what happens when you finally have time to think and are stuck on a bus for 1 1/2 hours! It was a bit fruity but I did enjoy writing it.

[Hes]

Recovering slowly marra, not run a step for nearly 3 weeks, best get training for the waltz

Awww Merry! I do hope you get back to full fettle again soon. It will be so good to see you at the Waltz.

[freckle]

Recovering slowly marra, not run a step for nearly 3 weeks, best get training for the waltz

yes you better had as i need you to line up the snecklifters at the bar when i finish some 3 hours after everyone else!!!!!!.......BRING IT ON!!!!!

[Hes]

Dissociative mundane


Standing,
placing creases in a skirt,
one by one,
with a hot iron.


A long day draws to a close
are they your hands
slipping around my waist?
wet imprints of a necklace .
Feint scent of your travail
is upon me
and the promise
in my minds eye
of legs upon legs.
Ensconced on the sofa
exchanging tales
inbetween velveteen berries.
"Glad I got those miles in" you say
I knead your toes and notice
imprints of fatigue in your eyes.


“Can you get me some juice ma?”
You’ve vanished
I move the iron out of danger.

This is great Freckle. How fleeting and transient those moments are. Real life interrupting reveries...

[Hes]

Am i the only one who thinks mangoes taste like soap ?. Good poem Hes.

You make me larff! No seriously, I actually think they taste a bit like pine trees but I like that. I loved your latest fell running poems Herakles.

[N-dubya]

Some great poetry today Alf, Herakles and Derby Tup!

The Gift

You brought me mangoes
and set them on my table.
Unprepossessing, thick-skinned,
those hard green fruit.
Only the hint of a blush
suggesting that within.
With quick, deft hands
you pared their bodies
and slitting the wet, orange flesh
you unleashed the sun
...the moon, the stars...
and how we devoured them,
lips sticky from their juice,
tasting the sweetness
that we once thought
we would never taste
again.

Nice poem I can see the metaphor I think, did you intend it. A great thing about poetry different people see different things and take different meanings. I interpret it as one of those small incidents in life that become maybe not precious but significant enough to spend longer writing about it than the occurence itself, good stuff

[N-dubya]

Snow, snow here again.
I would rather have the wind and rain.
Those two elements are soon gone.
But snow tends to linger on.
Snow's slippy when you run and wet and cold.
The young may love it but not the old.
Go snow so I can run without fear
If you must return then make it next year!


Alf
(Heavily influenced by William McGonagall )

nice one