Today’s choice
Previous poems
Joshua Seigal
The Last Olive
I offer you the last olive.
Have it yourself, you say.
Don’t be ridiculous, I reply –
just take it. I saved it for you.
You bite into the olive,
your teeth working their way
around the hard interior.
You eat half of it
and hand the other half over.
The rest is yours, you say.
I savour the flesh –
this gift I’ve been given.
Joshua Seigal is best known as a children’s author and poet, and has several full collections published with Bloomsbury. His work for a ‘grown up’ audience has been Highly Commended in the 2026 Poetry Wales Award, and he recently released his debut pamphlet, wryly entitled The Relationship Expert, as a free digital publication, which can be downloaded here: https://archive.org/details/
L.B. Jørgensen
As the whole town picked sugar beets,
their breath hugged
furrows in pre-dawn darkness.
Mel Joy
a line of hanging hooks
bent us into the dining hall
where we ate like birds
Judith Taylor
He reads aloud about visiting the Underworld in dreams,
seeing his dead again. Through the big window behind him
there’s a flowerbed and some long grass
Anne Symons
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...
Regina Weinert
A key on a short string unlocks
a metal door to an unlit stair, steep
wooden steps, a turn at the top
Dave Wakely
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...
David Lukens
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.
Marnie Cockrill
So, what has brought you in today Mrs…?
Owens. Mrs Owens.
Day Seven of ‘Wonder’ for NPD: Helen Anderson, Sue Johns
When the light returns
I will remind the garden.
Along with the robins
who have cast off
their Christmas card coyness
to mate.