by Helen Ivory | Sep 2, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Clocking on at the Sawmill After a successful breakfast of flapjacks and black coffee the Buddhist clocking on at the sawmill 250,000 board feet to cut and trim the moon still bright in the sky the sun rising wearing his big red shirt and his...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 1, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Distress call A red tractor hovers over its white rims scalping around small splinted trees and I suppress a sneeze at the green over rust fence as the beast grumbles Under amber pulse flashes in glass skull neon skinned a...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 31, 2020 | Featured, Poetry, Reviews
I confess to having a personal interest in the art and the life of Stanley Spencer that is entirely fanciful, born of the fact that he and my grandmother, Hilda, both worked in war hospitals in Bristol during the first world war. ‘They could have met,’ I...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 30, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Your other name The river, fat and glistening green, slithers through the city through the church yard, covered in windflowers Their petal confetti tore up winter so that spring arrived empty and unwritten with a naked, confessing light Only oval...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 29, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Starlings Dusk, on a winter’s evening, overcast, cold, a stiff offshore wind blowing in from the Irish sea as people emerge from town streets, in twos or threes or solitary, to see this miracle. Small figures muffled to the ears all eyes as the...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 28, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Of Change and Collaboration Here in the Valley The sun each day Rises over the mountains At a different time in a different place In the East, some say But others see each day is unique And, flexible, cobble a self to suit And so they grow and...
