Pure
***
I read it on Beehive Poetry evening at Josef's K Cafe in Bradford on 19/02/24, England
Cold morning mist,
Wraps me
Into white and thick velvet.
I disappear
In a distance
Turning into
Nothing more
Then my innosent
Exhaling breath.
12/12/23
***
I created and read this poem in the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England (19/02/24) and on Rhubarb Poetry evening at Triangle Pub in Shipley Bradford on 28/02/24, England
When I turn
Into ashes,
Scatter them in a
Blue sea,
Let it cradle me
Timelessly,
I want to experience
That I don’t remember.
I want to hug you,
When you swim
In the sea,
I want to see you
Sailing away
To the place
Where you are happy.
24/02/24
***
I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 02/03/24.
I read this poem at Rhubarb Poetry Night (70th Anniversary) at the pub Cultures, Saltaire, Bradford on 29/05/24
He circled around her
Whispering in blues,
Blue melody
Trees breezed
In a summer night
She melted in divine blue,
Blue moon
Witnessed
How blue they were
Scattering over them
Stars hammered in silver
Taking out
Of his pocket in blue.
02/03/24
***
I created this poem being inspired by the workshop ‘Blue is the light that got lost…’ hosted by Gaia Holmes. Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England. I attended it on 16/03/24.
I read it at Rhubarb Poetry night, at The Triangle pub, Shipley, Bradford, England on 27/03/34
I watch her smoky blue
Thin body frame
Standing in a high gothic window
Casting navy blue shadow
Over silver floor,
She doesn’t want
My tenderly blue touch.
Her ice blue mind
Wants stormy silence
In this smouldering blue hour.
I see
Snowy blue moon
behind her head.
She looks holly.
The clock on the wall
Is ticking
Washing blue gold away.
Making us to fear
Face Indigo fading away.
16/03/24
Laying into bluebell field.
This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop in Halifax Kings Cross Library on 20/04/24 and our topic was Bluebells.
I read this poem at Rhubarb Poetry Night (70th Anniversary) at the pub Cultures, Saltaire, Bradford on 29/05/24.
I return home. Sun and blue sky,
Trees and endless forests surround me.
Soon will be Easter.
Bluebells whisper in my ears.
We will turn into heaven
Leaving sun behind us and summer
For you to enjoy.
20/04/24
What bluebells dream of
This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop in Halifax Kings Cross Library on 20/04/24 and our topic was Bluebells.
I read it in the Serendipity Extraordinary Ordinary anthology book launch at Lawrence Batley Theatre on 21/04/24, Rhubarb Poetry night, at The Triangle pub, Shipley, Bradford on 24/04/24
I fell in love with Autumn
Trees and anmals told me
He is hansome.
I dream, I could be be here longer
And see him riding a hore over the horizon
I would give him myself away
And dress me into clothes I had had never before
Red and yellow, brown and orange
I would be a princess Mary and he would be my William of Orange.
20/04/24
***
This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s poetry workshop session at Kings Cross Library, Halifax.
I talk blue and indigo, I sing Oxford Blue when
My heart hurts when days are black instead of white
Walking over oceans wrapped in smoky mists.
18/05/24
***
This poem is published on the Igniting the Spark Facebook page.
I walk barefeet over green grass in early June morning.
It’s washing tiredness away with fresh silver morning dew
I feel reborn again. Sun is giving birth to a new day
Painting its sky in aquamarine, rolling up the smoky velvet from dozing trees.
I stretch my naked arm and scatter golden sun rays in the sleeping meadow.
Robins, blackbirds and thrushes feed my soul with their voices as
I feed them with my love,
My lungs are thirsty to recall Mother Earth
And I get on my naked knees on the black soil
In the nearby field
Grab a handful of rough ground to put close to my nose.
I inhale the fragrance of earth over and over again filling my body with innocence
Acknowledging that I have to be patient and wait
For Mother Earth to turn me pure.
24/05/24
***
This poem is written at Gaia Holmes’s workshop at Kings Cross Library, Halifax, England.
Published on Igniting Sparkle Facebook page on 27.08.24
If I won't make my dream come true
While I’m here,
I’ll take it to Heaven
And I’ll turn it into snow-white sparkling stars
For humans on the earth to enjoy
During dark hours.
01/06/24