The Poetry Kit MAGAZINE |
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POETRY PROJECT - Response to Calendar |
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David Supper
December 21st
Curled round the fire, wrapped in a blanket
fingers and toes still freezing, outside
the crisp, white frost shatters tender stems
of plants - in nature's cruel divide.
The bright sun slants through the window
catching speckled dust in its rays,
last night's snow tries hard to melt -
but turns to ice in these bitter
winter days.
Distant black clouds rush on the wind,
bringing night midway to the afternoon,
then in fury, blow - whitening the ground;
lights glow orange, mocking the sun too soon.
Shivering indoors, only four days to go -
while we are warm inside, let it snow!
David Clarke
Decemberism The garden this morning candied with winter or waking after an ice age millennium the earth unlocked by the brushing hem of the comeback king.
Stuart Nunn
Bird feeder
It stood empty all summer, despite our care to provide what the garden centre said they liked. Nothing tempted our local birds away from parental duties. Today, while we waited for the first of our children – unemployed, homeless – to turn up for the feast, I sat my mother by the window and shared her delight as we saw blue tit coal tit green finch sparrow robin attack the seed hoppers while starlings fought over the slab of fat dangling from our feeder.
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