TO MARGARET, UNFORGOTTEN

Two nights I have dreamed of you Once as an adolescent, evanescent Yet tangible still to the spirit’s touch, Then as a ten year old in the shared Secret garden of our imagination.

WYTHER PARK SCHOOL LEEDS FIVE

I stood there in front of forty-five faces The first day of term, not especially fancying “Exercises in Mechanical Arithmetic” and so instead I read a poem from Kirkup in Japan, about Nijinsky, Hand-written

MY ONLY VALENTINE

Your voice on the telephone Hushes the storm in my heart Lightning strikes twice In the same place. I cannot picture your face No photograph, no keepsake, No letters scented with your smile, No

MY PERFECT ROSE

At ten she came to me, three years ago, There was ‘something between us’ even then; Watching her write like Eliot every day, Turn prose into haiku in ten minutes flat, Write a poem

INCOMPATABILITIES

For Brenda Williams La lune diminue; divin septembre. Divine September the moon wanes. Pierre Jean Jouve Themes for poems and the detritus of dreams coalesce: This is one September I shall not forget. The

Bridge Over The Aire Book 1

AGAINST THE GRAIN “Oxford be silent, I this truth must write Leeds hath for rarities undone thee quite.” – William Dawson of Hackney, Nov.7th 1704 “The repressed becomes the poem” Louise Bogan 1 Well
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