Today’s choice
Previous poems
Irene Cunningham
LULLABY of CALMING – Do you take spec in your tea?
Lavender seeps. I expect my limbs to leaden, lead the body down through sheet, mattress-cover, into the machinery of sleep where other lives exist. Landscapes of folding dimensions intermingle at the drop of an eyelid. Alice meets Titania for lunch with crisp white wine instead of tea. Fizzing accents discuss our failings to hold the world in high esteem – it takes a lifetime to grow into a life, carry the bad, live like glorious humans. Some enchanted future morning I’ll wake, be enamoured by a rose bush tapping at the window, bluest sky behind. I’ll have forgotten who or what I was. A smiling someone will open my door with, Lovely morning. I’ll feel loved. They’ll place a little table on my knees with food waving its aroma. I’ll grasp the fork, pierce lumps of scrambled egg with rolling hills of melted cheese and clap hands as I finish. The daily wandering down corridors peering into paintings means it’ll take forever to mingle in that pleasant state of decay.
Irene Cunningham has poems in many magazines, anthologies over decades. 2019 Hedgehog Press published, SANDMEN: A Space Odyssey, poetry conversation. 2020 FIONA WAS HERE: Amazon. 2022 Dreich Press, No Country for Old Woman. 2023 Amazon: Talking to Walls, and Up@Ground Level.
On the ninth day of Christmas, we bring you Caroline Smith, Bec Mackenzie and David Keyworth
After the lunch he gets his folder
of Christmas games.
On the eighth day of Christmas, we bring you Em Gray, Abigail Ottley and Emma Simon
And now you’re half a spin of the world away,
somewhere I’ve never been, like Narnia . . .
On the seventh day of Christmas, we bring you Sue Burge, Erica Hesketh and Max Wallis
Once there was nothing sweeter than snow
On the sixth day of Christmas, we bring you Amy Rafferty, Tim Kiely and D.A.Prince
We pick up where you left off, searching still,
choosing random cards from a dealer’s deck:
twenty-one crows in a night-time tree,
deep within the dark, with all that chatter
On the fifth day of Christmas, we bring you Paul McGrane, Kevin Reid and Helen Evans
As regular as Santa Claus, she’d call
around at Christmas, the next-door neighbour
and my Sunday school teacher, Mrs Williams.
On the fourth day of Christmas, we bring you Leusa Lloyd, Lydia Benson and Charlotte Johnson
It is always Christmas in the loft
On the third day of Christmas, we bring you K. S. Moore, Kate Noakes and Rachael Smart
Picture this:
little witch girl
in Alaskan wilderness.
On the second day of Christmas, we bring you Gill McEvoy, Rachel Burns and Cindy Botha
On the way to the registry office it snows, flecks of white like spittle hitting the steamed-up bus windows, I worry the petals from my wedding posy.
On the first day of Christmas, we bring you Hannah Linden, John White and Stephen Keeler
. . . Now the villages is
en fête: dressed for a party in the dark,
across the fields, along uneven paths . . .