Polly

Writings and Witterings


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An Inevitable Marriage

An update on a poem written in 2012 for Holly and Suz…

An Inevitable Marriage

A snood and a fur stole got talking
at a spoken-word night sublime.
They ended up a-walking out,
a-walking out in time.
Gnashing, snapping, pelt on end,
they came together,
more than friends.
The cuddly snood, a circular friend,
liked a hug, liked to spend
some time around the neck of another,
preferably a passionate lover.

Granny’s fox stole:
sharp evil teeth,
claws on paws,
felt-lined beneath
its spindly legs surround the throat.
The bite, the scratch,
the hug, the cuddle,
the hug, the cuddle,
the bite, the scratch
arrange the marriage,
the perfect match.

Polly Stretton © 2016

Entirely caused by Holly’s snood and Suz’s fur coat 05/04/2012 at Parole Parlate


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The Silence of Emptiness

In the silence of my room
I hear a sob
I know it can’t be me
because
I swore no tears for you.

Yet a curse is no ally
against an empty bed
empty arms
where you once fit
snugly.

Blinding ache
in the core
serpent bite
of bitter love
no more.

Laughing no more
trying no more
dancing no more
crying
no more.

 

Polly Stretton © 2016


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Sunset

Evening Sunrise - ebsheehy.wordpress.com

Sunset – with acknowledgement to ebsheehy.wordpress.com

Sunset

Top of the
evening, sunset:
Spirito Italiano,
golden yellow,
tapering, elegant,
lidded, etched in purple.
Olive leaf quill in
a “‘G’, please Bob”.
Gold rush glory,
voluptuous vanilla
scented by subtle spice,
infused with herbs,
thirty per cent,
smoooooth,
niiiiice.

Polly Stretton © 2016

 

Galliano-galliano.com

With acknowledgement to galliano.com


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Tip the Windmill

We look after our feet
to keep walking
and our skin
for comfort and looks.
This is a small caution
it is in wellness defined …
think of yourself, for once,
don’t ignore your mind.
The fragile mind,
full of vim and vigour,
deserves our attention too.

By and large
it keeps in good health,
yet a day might dawn
when almost by stealth
it no longer functions
one’s ‘not quite oneself.’
They dole out meds,
maybe something is said
that tilts the balance,
tips the windmill,
turns the head
away.

Polly Stretton © 2016