A pretty three-syllable name
I never heard before.
Wasn’t sure at first
if she was girl or boy
despite long hair –
breasts just beginning.
She spoke softly, looking down;
liked playing with our cats,
asked their names.
I’d meet her walking
on the beach like me;
we’d smile briefly.
The older sisters
and little brothers
were noisy, laughing.
She: big-eyed, serious.
We began having
conversations, then they left.
[Poem #74]
This began as a game some bloggers played in 2008, to write about people who'd made an impact, in the same number of words as one's age, every day for a year. I did them less often and went on longer, adding one word each birthday. I stopped in 2016 and incorporated them into my main poetry blog. In 2019 I resumed the project and gave it its own blog again, with a new name, where it may unfold at its own (slow, intermittent, lapsing and resuming) pace. I've labelled these verse portraits, but they're more like quick sketches: mere glimpses, impressions....
Showing posts with label NEIGHBOURS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NEIGHBOURS. Show all posts
Monday, 18 May 2009
Tuesday, 7 April 2009
Peggotty
Forty years all but one day
older than me.
Soft fat woman,
voice like honey.
Lying gowned in flowing purple
one liqueur chocolate
in smooth fingertips.
Musk and lavender wafting
from a cushiony bosom.
A yielding cheek for kisses.
Her garden had swings
and winding paths,
nooks for hide-and-seek
among rhododendrons.
Gave me '18 Poems
by Dylan Thomas'
one shared birthday –
1962, my 23rd. I have it still.
[Poem #67]
older than me.
Soft fat woman,
voice like honey.
Lying gowned in flowing purple
one liqueur chocolate
in smooth fingertips.
Musk and lavender wafting
from a cushiony bosom.
A yielding cheek for kisses.
Her garden had swings
and winding paths,
nooks for hide-and-seek
among rhododendrons.
Gave me '18 Poems
by Dylan Thomas'
one shared birthday –
1962, my 23rd. I have it still.
[Poem #67]
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