Poetry

Sundials,

Garden pathways,

Shadows under trees,

Deepening green coniferous,

Needles prickling my knees.

 

Mythry recalled,

Lichen stones where moss’s crawled,

Encroaching viridescent cage,

Around Dad’s truck yard wall.

 

A monkey puzzle tree,

Grabbed for curiosity,

Who sat and scratched,

their heads more,

Made up lemurs,

or was it me?

 

I foraged underneath,

Musty pines, forgotten rhymes,

Then in for China tea.

Were the leaves from there,

Or porcelain?

So delicate and delft.

Camellia scents, East Orient,

In cups,

Of Antwerp’s theft.

Our European wealth,

Taken spoil,

From conquered soils,

Sit on aunties shelf.

 

Wide angle shots of youth,

Senses undulated,

Recalled house,

on Blackglen Road,

Fact, fiction, complicated.

 

Swarm misinformation,

They watch Fox News at 2AM,

For laughs and conversation.

Report divided nation.

Whether here or there,

We have a flare,

For hyperbolic statement.

 

Deep state down,

Not underground,

It’s written on their faces,

As they rile us up for ratings.

 

Those were times,

In concealed fields,

Fiery gorse and elevated.

Now I’m here,

Realising love,

Is best given,

Than when taken.