The door sings its welcome
it’s the kind of door
that trickles honey in the light
and says come in
twice at least
leave your coat in the hall
the kettle’s singing
sit yourself down
here at the window
in the garden oak
a blackbird warbles
breezes play
among the cushions
next door is grey
and cracked at the hinges
too much slammed
yanked open
lost or stolen jobs
hopes loves
but this door is a honeycomb
a promise
don’t keep walking by
scarred with disappointment
don’t slow your step
to rush silently on
only knock
and step in out of the ruins
only knock and the door
will swing gently wide.
Linda Rose Parkes was born in the Channel Islands and published her third collection Familiars, with Hearing Eye in 2015. She is co-editor of Wavelengths, an anthology of Channel Island Poetry, and is a painter and lyricist.