Sunday 18 December 2016

If Christmas Trees Could Talk

Here's a seasonal tale to lighten up your day:

If Christmas Trees Could Talk

A short story by Maggie Knutson

A late December sun was just sinking below the village church opposite when Mo and Isabel put the last ornament on their Christmas tree. “That looks grand,” said Isabel, and she gave her sister an affectionate hug. “We've done it! We've done all our unpacking and put the tree up and all before supper time.”
“We're a good team, you and I,” Mo said. “So who's going to put the lights on?”
“Go on, Mo, you do it,” Isabel said. And with no more ado, Mo bent down and did the honours. The lights burst into a brilliant show of reds and greens and blues, flooding the room with a cheeriness which warmed both of their hearts.
“Now we've got to see this from outside,” Isabel said and, despite the cold, they pitter-pattered outside. They were pleased with what they saw: the tree nestled prettily in the window alcove of their front room as if it were meant to be there.
 “If anyone was passing by,” Isabel said, “what would our tree tell them about us?”
“Well,” Mo deliberated, “... Click to read more

Saturday 27 February 2016

MY LATEST POEM - The Thunderstorm

The Thunderstorm

Trapped in my car
I watch the hard pellets of rain
machine gun into the windscreen
Shrapnel of spray
bounces back
into the darkness beyond

I recall the film 'The Birds'
And imagine each raindrop
as a
Blackbird's piercing beak gouging
deep holes
into the re-enforced metal of the roof 

I dare not move
The world beyond has shrunk into
a black unknown

I am only sure of what I see within: 
my own sharp knees and rigid hands
wide-eyed stare
back from the small mirror
in calmer times
for make-up

I am late
he will be gone

This now is the only thing of which I'm certain