{"id":18075,"date":"2019-01-02T08:00:31","date_gmt":"2019-01-02T08:00:31","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ink.verticalplus.co.uk\/archive\/?p=18075"},"modified":"2020-12-14T11:22:16","modified_gmt":"2020-12-14T11:22:16","slug":"on-the-twelfth-day-of-christmas-we-bring-you","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/on-the-twelfth-day-of-christmas-we-bring-you\/","title":{"rendered":"On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, we bring you JS Watts, Kerry Darbishire and Nicky Phillips"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/Web_BirdsOtherLands_0460.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignnone size-thumbnail wp-image-18011\" src=\"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/Web_BirdsOtherLands_0460-150x150.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"150\" height=\"150\" srcset=\"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/Web_BirdsOtherLands_0460-150x150.jpg 150w, https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/Web_BirdsOtherLands_0460-185x185.jpg 185w, https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/Web_BirdsOtherLands_0460-164x164.jpg 164w, https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/Web_BirdsOtherLands_0460-184x184.jpg 184w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 150px) 100vw, 150px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: left;\"><strong>White Blessings<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The moon looks down from her bed of winding sheets.<br \/>\nHer glance is white, both a blessing and a curse.<br \/>\nIt howls of weddings and funerals,<br \/>\nvast icy distances;<br \/>\nimpersonal, chillingly serene.<\/p>\n<p>Great snowfields reach up to kiss a bleached bone sky.<br \/>\nThe white hare runs with speed and grace.<br \/>\nWhatever you do, don\u2019t look at her.<br \/>\nVeil her eyes with the soiled nets<br \/>\nof winter fog crawling in<br \/>\non gusts of inertia.<\/p>\n<p>Unsullied potential glares defiantly<br \/>\nfrom the new year\u2019s calendar;<br \/>\nsmooth as untouched cold cream.<br \/>\nIt could be anything, many things, nothing<br \/>\nreflected in the blankness behind sheeted eyes.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>J.S.Watts<\/strong>\u2019 books include poetry, <em>Cats and Other Myths<\/em> and\u00a0 Y<em>ears Ago You Coloured Me<\/em>, plus multi-award nominated <em>Songs of Steelyard Sue<\/em> and a shiny new pamphlet, <em>The Submerged Sea<\/em>. Her novels are <em>A Darker Moon<\/em> and <em>Witchlight<\/em>. See\u00a0<a href=\"http:\/\/www.jswatts.co.uk\/\">www.jswatts.co.uk <\/a><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>The Twelfth Day<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Before glittery robins, deer and pines<br \/>\nladen with snow flew through my door,<\/p>\n<p>before tree lights sparkled the dead-air days<br \/>\nand tinsel decked the corners, I was writing<\/p>\n<p>a poem about you \u2013 wrapped<br \/>\nin the joy of cards slipping<\/p>\n<p>off their strings, hoovering pine needles<br \/>\nthe man on the market promised wouldn\u2019t<\/p>\n<p>drop, the spit and crackle of parched<br \/>\nholly dismantled in the grate, you<\/p>\n<p>glowing in the satisfaction of taking Christmas<br \/>\ndown, snapping shut the rusty hinges<\/p>\n<p>of an old leather suitcase brimmed<br \/>\nwith paper chains, lanterns, the nativity, then<\/p>\n<p>from underneath a bed, lifting out<br \/>\nthe scent of blue and white hyacinths.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Kerry Darbishire<\/strong> lives in Cumbria. Her poems appear widely in anthologies and magazines and have won several prizes, including shortlist Bridport 2017. Her two poetry collections, <em>A Lift of Wings<\/em> 2014, and <em>Sweet on my Tongue<\/em> 2018 with Indigo Dreams.Twitter: @kerrydarbishire<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Changing the calendar<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Squalls bluster recycled streamers<br \/>\nup into spirals; rain, relentless,<br \/>\ndrives as puddles deepen;<br \/>\nmuddy streams pour off fields;<br \/>\nlanes flow like rivers;<br \/>\nclouds hang low as skies close in.<\/p>\n<p>Yesterday, similarly soggy,<br \/>\nwas last year, last day,<br \/>\nspeeding to midnight\u2019s ringing in.<br \/>\nToday, with everything new,<br \/>\nfeels old \u2013 no herald of change,<br \/>\nno stirring under water-logged soil.<\/p>\n<p>I ditch December, with its unused<br \/>\nprompts for procrastinating poets,<br \/>\nsubstitute a flawless year,<br \/>\na gallery of vintage typewriters,<br \/>\neach date, each key poised,<br \/>\nready to deliver the unexpected.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Nicky Phillips<\/strong> lives in Hertfordshire. Her poems have been published in magazines and online. In 2017 one was nominated for Forward Prize for Best Single Poem. Her pamphlet <em>Jam in Aisle 3<\/em> was published by Dempsey &amp; Windle in 2018.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: left;\">Note: This poem was first published in Benington Parish Magazine, January 2017<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; White Blessings The moon looks down from her bed of winding sheets. Her glance is white, both a blessing and a curse. It howls of weddings and funerals, vast icy distances; impersonal, chillingly serene. Great snowfields reach up to kiss a bleached bone sky. The white hare runs with speed [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[97],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18075","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-twelve-days-of-christmas-2018"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18075","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18075"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18075\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18156,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18075\/revisions\/18156"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18075"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18075"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18075"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}