Jilted
The crescent moon of a magpie’s breast Half turned to bounce the dazzling rays Of rising sun against your face. It brands your eyes – a winged eclipse With a turquoise gem – Then flies away. Illustration by Lori Love
Happy Yeaster
Long Delayed Sudden Starts
The mountain drank its fill and burst. The wire unleashed its curls and jumped. The winter cracked with rainbow spurts. Potentials gathered. Spring sprang sprung!
work in progress
bit stuck with this one – suggestions welcome! :p
Movements Towards a State
Picture a palette, a lattice of paintblocks like puddles collecting the drops of a rainbow. Each one unique as the prime of a snowflake’s descent and discrete as a tightly held secret. They ripple with boredom and lust for their contrasting company, whether to plunder for pigments, spread word of their own or else simply […]Read Post ›
Simple Pleasure
We don’t grow up. We thicken. Years surround us like the rings of trees to sing the stories of our youth composed of times both rough and smooth but either way, a sturdy shield of streetwise tricks and skills to wield against the many threats that loom outwith the safety of the womb. The […]Read Post ›
Oh Let Us Be Done With This Order
(updated with explanation) x dominoes in single file but if one sways one tiny bit then one by one they all will fall and on the next one’s back they’ll sit as bricks in a misshapen wall. To punish them for being obtuse a crane lets loose its wrecking ball projecting in to smash and […]Read Post ›
Feeling Saucy
Oozing through the kitchen’s veins. Salty, sweet. In shoogled glass or skooshy plastic. Centrepiece of every table. Meals rotate like planets round your chemically stable essence. Vying for the nightly chance to bask amidst your smothered kiss. From bolognaise to fish and chips. Your touch unlocks their finer tastes and grants all entry to my […]Read Post ›
Correlations
What if what we thought we knew as obvi- ously true was false and clocks were not set forth by time but time passed pushed by throngs of ticks and tocks and days were not dic- tated by the speed of spinning rocks for spinning rocks were dancing to what ever length of day we […]Read Post ›
Woman of the Night
When our planet takes its turn to shield us from the blazing sun and shadows rise to strip the sky Her glistening body sparks our eyes at first with reverential thirst and now with wanton wanderlust. illustration © Lori Love
Don Redwood 