I am now located in Cheshire and a member of the Vale Royal Writers Group and Blaze Mid-Cheshire Stanza. Hope to be posting more after being absent for some months. Happy reading!
When they met she was in black –
her red lips a splash of hope –
and he caught her by the door:
she had stopped in the light,
named by the etched glass,
a kiss before he left for the boat.
It was one remembered by her
but was not spoken of until
she was forced to admit the truth.
Summer was the time we travelled
away from the city to new places
where sea scented the days mingling
with fruits from her orchard.
We gulped thyme, garlic that grew
wild on the hills above the bay,
broke the glass water as a pair
of eagles frolicked over the island.
Her cups were stacked carefully,
brought out for tea when guests came
together with cake stacked
neatly on stands above white cloths,
so the ceremony would always be perfect.
The city clouds, the moist heat had thrust
me inside. I found a photo of them
taken in that lost light.
Submitted to Reach Poetry September 2017
Published Reach 229 October 2017
and in Beneath the Blue Bridge Anthology VRWG 2018
The beach trees were shining gold
suddenly the white flakes came
the dropping temperature plunging
the garden into silent white
but still the blackbirds flew
seeking sustenance among stalks
of newly planted shrubs peeking
from above the winter’s path.
I watch them from above
sealed by a screen of glass
remembering snow in another garden
far away in time and place.
Finding your love
Hidden in your briefcase I found this poem
I’d written it to you as a gift on our Silver Wedding Day
never knowing you’d kept it perhaps read it
as you travelled to work, I never knew!
When I found I cried, for you had died.
We will never celebrate another anniversary
for you are gone and I am packing memories
into the box, and the box of my heart.
Two dozen summers, springs and falls
each season’s change we’ve seen
their promise, glory; gleaning we have known
and winter’s chills did feel.
Where they went I do not know
they passed – as turning tides,
yet you have made the Maytime years
a chain of sparkling blossoms picked
morning fresh as for a bride.
Whether we reach a haven like that depicted here
or destined we remain
within the city’s hassle, its struggle or domain,
I have, with the dew dropped blossom
you’ve given with the years, a haven
secret in my heart to hold my love with you.
A tall strong son with manly grace
a daughter to enchant,
are blessings that we offer to
a future still in dark.
If no more we lie beneath bright stars
as in our courting days – it matters not
for creaking limbs need duvet’s down to play.
To Silver and Gold let go –
with courage and our love
may God’s grace keep us close my love
His blessings still to know.
So with me here beside you
let’s celebrate our date….This Anniversary of Our Wedding Day. Carolyn O’Connell
Submitted to Reach Poetry 5/9/2017 Published Reach Poetry 232 Jan 2018
Over oceans of ideas, cultures, and countries
raised hands rise to support, supplant
the rulers whether democrats, dictators
oligarchs they face each other for a time
then time rolls on fading them into
sepia images rattling history.
They leave a thread of wounds and horror
littering the globe with tears, mourning hands
uplifted, pleading for justice, return of lands
even from long forgotten graves they rise:
but the hands unnoticed rise to comfort
from hearts torn in silent breasts
calling in deeds of kindness to the outcast
defying the power of the tyrant unopposed.
Published on the Be Zine .com 16 April 2018