Today’s choice
Previous poems
Terry Jones
Lines Written in Early Spring
The Lake District Tourist Board
has had no input into what
you are now reading, but I so
miss Cumbria in Holy Week;
late March or early April; snow
on the tops or a cold sun vying
with a cold wind; congregations
of chaotic lambs and their beseechings;
but not this year. There is a tug
In my heart that may just be
the reminder of some missed statins
or else a recurrence of the old
twinge as when the M6 northbound
sidesteps neatly west into the A591.
Terry Jones is a retired Careers Adviser living in Windsor. His career included secondary teaching and Career Guidance work in many settings in Further and Higher Education. He has been active in Ver Poets in St Albans, Enfield Stanza and (currently) Reading Stanza. He has been a workshop facilitator and lecturer on numerous poetic themes.
Brian Kirk
The train is the way,
the tracks a scar cut
deep in the land
you can’t help but touch.
Michelle Diaz
Mum was
a raised axe and a party hat.
Alice O’Malley-Woods
i run like a goat
tongue-lolled
Caiti Luckhurst
But first the sun has to break in two
Mara Adamitz Scrupe
on that new broke land I don’t anymore
recall there may have been a tree line or a hedgerow
a grove named & a bird’s sternum
George Sandifer-Smith
Spring 1833 – mists folding their sheets in the fields.
Isaac Roberts feels the turned earth, his father’s
farm an island in the hurtling Milky Way –
Sharon Phillips
Wet tarmac blinks red and gold,
names shine outside the Gaumont.
‘Stop dreaming, you’ll get lost.’
Bill Greenwell
Before the first turn of the key, before
adjusting the mirror, before releasing the handbrake even,
Dad said: there are two things you need to know.
Matt Gilbert
Alive, but not exactly,
as it fills the frame, flicker-lit
by lightning. . .