Today’s choice
Previous poems
Iris Anne Lewis
Blodeuwedd ensorcelled by Gwydion
And so I went into the owl.
Eyes, green as moss,
darken to black. Oak tassels
spell-woven to feathers.
A blossom-soft body
wrath-scorches to brown.
Broom flowers harden to bone,
curve into beak, curl into talons.
Tiny red buds now remnants
of mouse, packed into pellets.
They stick in my craw,
spit out as vomit.
Shunned by sparrows, harried by crows,
doomed to fly lonely at night.
When he rides his spurs
through night-sighing woods
I loom out of trees,
my meadow-sweet face
moon-bright and savage.
Iris Anne Lewis is widely published. Featured in Black Bough Poetry and Poetry Wales she has won or been placed in many competitions. Her first collection Amber is available from Amazon or contact her on @irisannelewis.bskysocial; X and Instagram @irisannelewis.
Jade Kleiner
There is the green that birthed all pine trees.
Tom Blake
We were the housing and the housed,
meaning nothing except that
we were always occupied,
or to put it simply never out.
Kate Bonfield
Coming home to days of heat
trapped beyond the door, to time skewed
by time away, the house bigger and
smaller than before.
Precious Ejim
I don’t know why I look to my mother
for her shadow never stays.
Jackson
I want to tell my mother,
I made a successful loaf
in the bread machine you didn’t know
you were leaving me
Kath Mckay
How to become two-dimensional
Die. You’re soon reduced to a photograph.
Lugubrious Co-op undertakers will zip you in a bag
and keep you cold . . .
Cindy Botha
atlas bear
black-footed ferret
cape lion
Jasmine Gibbs
This morning – Blackstar,
Bowie, those jazz swan songs
sputtering from the CD player,
wild trumpets that convulse
through negative space
Jane Pearn
the pool holds my face
my breath
ripples the water