Today’s choice
Previous poems
Simon Williams
Hummingbird Hawk Moth
What were these fairies called
before we knew of hummingbirds?
Bumblebee moth because of the size?
Reed-nose moth because of the proboscis?
I fancy Garden-sprite, Hoverling,
tiny Vanguard from the Realm of Humm,
Flit-wing, Pixy peregrine, Flutter-at-the-fuchsia,
Be-gone-before-you-know-it.
Hummingbirds are known to tweak hairs
for their nests, right from your head.
Hair would be too heavy, here.
Spider-thread is all these imps could steal.
Simon Williams (www.simonwilliams.info) has been writing since his teens, when he was mentored at university by Roger McGough and Pete Morgan. His first collection was published in 1981. Since then, he has had eight further books and his 10th, The Pickers and Other Tales, from Vole, was published in February 2024. Simon was elected The Bard of Exeter in 2013.
Miguel Cullen
The pelican is so dovey, with her funny crème anglaise feathers with pink and her split-ended crest and mouth.
T N Kennedy
inside the apiary it is always spring
human beings and honey bees cohabiting
Kate Vanhinsbergh
We Should Probably Get Up Now
but, outside, the world has paused:
the wind has put down its loneliness
Bel Wallace
Interior My dear, I washed you out of my sheets. And now I sleep softly in them. My dreams are sweet and free. I opened the windows to air out your smoke. I liked it for a while, how it held the past in its wispy fingers. I emptied your cigarette...
On the Twelfth Day of Christmas we bring you Rachel Burns, Lauren Middleton, Hedy Hume
I start the day early with a cup of tea.
A new diary asks I make an affirmation,
while cleaning my teeth.
I have nothing to offer –
On the Eleventh Day of Christmas we bring you Mary Mulholland, Edward Heathman, Edward Alport
No Nordmann firs in Bethlehem.
No holly or ivy. But pomegranate,
almond, fig and olive trees to anoint
with signs of blessing and peace.
And houses don’t smell of Balsam
On the Tenth Day of Christmas we bring you Rupert Loydell, Ruth Aylett, Eithne Cullen
The village is made of darkness and wood smoke
and the hunting owls sounding from the garrigue.
On the Ninth Day of Christmas we bring you Mark Connors, Michelle Diaz, Sue Finch
Today I am in church again. I have come for silent reflection in one of my favourite seats, but it feels a little closer to the edge than usual.
On the First Day of Christmas we bring you Sarah Mnatzaganian, Rebecca Gethin, Jenni Thorne
Towards the Solstice
owls fly closer in December twilight,
call to each other across the garden.