Polly

Writings and Witterings


17 Comments

Hear The Dance

Background music,
‘for company,’
to me, that is
–cacophony–

But listen,
really listen,
hear the words,
feel the melody, impact, rhythm:
heart bursts,
eyes shine,
body sways,
mind fills
and tingles neck’s nape.
Dance takes shape.

♩ ♬ ♩ ♬

Polly Robinson © 2015


28 Comments

Familiar

Potatoes:
first earlies, small and new,
later ones stored for the winter.
Clay and earth
turned to tilth,
rough handled spade
leaves splinters.
Apples ripen
and are wrapped
in newspaper
staining fingers.

In the cellar
down stone steps
the clatter of heels.
In the cold,
breath freezes.
The dog in its kennel,
head on paws;
looks from under brows
then moves eyes to the side,
as if to say, ‘Go away.’

A place of lacquered music boxes,
globes, clocks, a box of matches:
laughter, anger.

High praise and low
days are common.
Rows end in tears
and gladness.
Familiar.

Polly Robinson © 2015


14 Comments

VerseWrights

Good to see one of my poems featured on the VerseWrights website and Facebook page

‘Volunteers’ was inspired by Rodin’s fabulous sculpture in Calais from 1889 – according to Linduff et al[1] it serves as a monument to an occurrence in 1347 during the Hundred Years’ War, when Calais, an important French port on the English Channel, was under siege by the English for over a year. Calais commissioned Rodin to create the sculpture in 1884.

The Burghers of Calais by Auguste Rodin

The Burghers of Calais by Auguste Rodin

[1] Linduff, David G. Wilkins, Bernard Schultz, Katheryn M. (1994). Art past, art present (2nd ed. ed.). Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall. p. 454. ISBN 0-13-062084-X.


41 Comments

Valediction

I see you in the sky blossoms:
lapis lazuli, cloudy pearls;
in laburnum chains,
lime links and leafy swirls.
And the sunshine’s silvery golden show.

Think of days like today
when the sun shines as if it’s July.
I remember you, my friend,
and the times we spent
together.

Polly Robinson © 2015

My friend lost her fight with cancer last Friday – posting this in memory of the most generous, kind and wise woman who has left us too soon.


48 Comments

Earache

A poem for two voices – remembering a trip to the Canary Islands at this time of year :)

Earache

‘Oh! My ears hurt. My ears hurt.
It’s the wind that blows
over the oceans,
ruffling my clothes,
but worse than that,
even though it’s warm,
in my ears there’s an ache going on.’

‘Yes, I know, my dear,
the pain is intense,
you’ve been telling me
for hours, ever since
we got to this island
so far from our home,
but it is warm, dear,
and wherever we roam
at this time of year
it’ll always be true
that wind in your ears
will trouble you.’

‘But it’s making me blue
and this is not why we’re here,
they promised good times
full of sunshine and cheer.
The ache in my ears
is making me anxious.
Forgive me my darling
for being fractious.’

‘Well, the sunshine is here,
such a lovely day,
something to smile at
while we are away.
Perhaps you’ll feel better
if we go inside?
Though I’m sad if from sunshine
we have to hide.’

‘Ooh, look! A hat stall! Look my dear!
I’ll get a tea cosy to cover my ears
and take the ache away.
We’ll stay outdoors, our time won’t be ruined
by a mistraly breeze or worse that’s brewing.
Warm though it is, I can’t be doing
with pain in my ears, I’m only human.’

‘Ah, do not distress yourself
buy the hat,
in moments all will be swell.
You may have pain
in your ears, my dear…
But my ears ache as well!’

Polly Robinson © 2015

In response to a dVerse prompt by Grace aka Kathleen Everett – dVerse is open to all, have a go! :)


16 Comments

Faintly Curled

Four raven wings
framed by the pale
of dawn mist sorrow
swoop from the tower,
troop over lawns
watching prancing unicorns
paw the ground,
kick up sweet-smelling dust
and prepare to lock horns.
The birds caw and wish away
all ills of a mortal world;
after a year and a day
their wishes lie still,
faintly curled.
On the tower, wings of lead,
four raven wings spread,
as unicorns scent the air.

Polly Robinson © 2015

This poem was my response to tonight’s WWC prompt ‘Two Ravens’– it was to be for children (no age stipulated)