by Helen Ivory | Feb 13, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Signs When I set out on my journey I shall leave home early. I shall wear shoes that breathe slowly; button up my best coat. My scarf will wrap itself around me, brushing my cheek like a newborn hand and I shall need a bag –...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 12, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Silent Egg Eating And all we can hear are the birds, keeping up their incessant conversation, whilst we, war weary and broken, eat eggs in silence; pushing our spoons through this beginning stuff, avoiding eye contact but keeping pace, the salt of...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 11, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
Dog Watching the Waves Aldeburgh, 2011 Long-eared and scruffy, he’s mesmerised by the waves scampering towards him like rabbits instantly sucked back into a calm that falls over the edge to water another world, a better world perhaps, and blessing that world...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 10, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
This is Not a Poem You have a child, a baby just learning to walk and he wears a blue snowsuit. He moves across the frost-tinged grass, each faltering step seems to wobble all through his body up to his head and then suddenly he sits as if with a...
by Helen Ivory | Feb 9, 2013 | Prose & Poetry
adonis Thursday morning in Walthamstow Opens its eyes on a puzzle of Back gardens Limp washing lines and paths Hidden by upswept petals. The ash tray flower pot Is mounting a resistance The kettle is not yet set to boil But it glows In the semi-dark...
