by Helen Ivory | Aug 11, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Day of the Dead Granny introduced us to her parents, her uncle who moved to South Africa in 1912, the grandfather I never knew and his family. There were hundreds of them, all in period costume, each generation explained who they were, queued like at a...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 10, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Notes on Liminal Maps Venus passed over the south node of the Moon today: I don’t know what this means but I do know that dark tons of metal carved a curve slower than belief through dusking light beneath grey under-bellied clouds as she held...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 9, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Fortune Teller at the Mediaeval Fayre She offered up her linen bag to me, said pick a shell my lady and I’ll tell your fortune; my fingers skimmed scalloped edges the bold domes of limpets but settled on a smaller more fragile find – the wing of a...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 8, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Of our times and tulips Squirrels have beheaded all my parrot tulips and the supermarket is out of chilli, also tabasco sauce. At the zebra crossing an SUV hurls a diesel glazed puddle into my boots and the rain stings my eyes, breaches the seams...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 7, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
A Gift Morning’s cusp of summer in a cobalt breach the sun is a white coin lifted from the sea. Walking, going somewhere from old rifts, like a calliope, spun like fists on a hurricane stare, glassy arraignment loops a centred pain. (This happens...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 6, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Genetics Yes, you gave us your elegant hands and capricious smile, but as I make my way to the chiropodist this morning, it’s your feet I’m thinking of and how in your later years they gave you constant trouble. I was still too young for our...
