by Helen Ivory | Dec 31, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Twelve Days of Christmas
Twelfth Night the weather through the draped window dreich the fire spits and greetings cards make a merry flame as I the audient listen to the sermon of the grate that a living room is empty unless you let in a little light Gareth...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 30, 2020 | News
Postcards from Murree, Pakistan after Nina Mingya Powles 1. We drink milky hot tea from dainty teacups, pastel porcelain. With it, the mist rising in the mountains around us, and petrichor. The sound of children playing, the tips of their shoes pattering...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 30, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Twelve Days of Christmas
Christmas in the wasteland For Prof R Klein Bird foot snow arrows east Sun is oblong yolk spilt over elms I see Hiroshima setting and all is silent now. I see you in snow drift apparitions Bride not to be scattered to five winds I feel the chilblain frost and think of...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 29, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Twelve Days of Christmas
Parenting Book I wrote it down when they woke me at 3am to tell me they didn’t like ham anymore, only jam and cheese. How on the toilet is the best place to sing. I kept a notebook for years: the sore throat bad as three arrows sticking...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 28, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Twelve Days of Christmas
Domain The fork garden is planted by hallmark, by taxonomic value from the tines down. Frost plates the handle, silver lip at the edge of soil, dug out in winter, dug out of winter, bringing up root and louse. If dirt bound and iced in the fork...
