by Helen Ivory | Oct 13, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Magic Pennies My dad was a magician. He could make a penny disappear with a twist of his wrist just vanish in thin air to pluck it later from your ear or nose. People laughed when dad did that. He’d put a matchstick in the centre of a clean white...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 12, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Shared Attic A key on a short string unlocks a metal door to an unlit stair, steep wooden steps, a turn at the top where you can’t see back. We’re in The Gods. A warren on the right, murk-bound filaments of light strike coal briquettes, a broom...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 11, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Grandfather/Grandson A hot, dry day in an already arid season. I stumble through stands of age-misshapen oaks, leaves blistering brown as they beckon me into the shade. From time to time, I glimpse a clearing to one side of the path, or a view...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 10, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Samaras Having earned their wings through evolution it is almost as though they are loth to use them preferring familiar earth, the old tree’s broad shadow. Everywhere you look these whips of sycamore, living where they fell, rooting out some well...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 9, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Clerking notes So, what has brought you in today Mrs…? Owens. Mrs Owens. Ahh, nice to meet you Mrs Owens. What brings you in today? Worry mostly, I worry, I’m a worrier. But I’m particularly worried about this. Worry not, Mrs Owens. Is your worry...
