Black stone soft to carve
beads, ornament, brooches.
Stone, fine and intricate,
to wear, to revel in,
and slowly break.
Below gull torn skies
in the fishing town,
by Staithes, under quayside sails,
the sharp glitter, a dark rainbow
in booths.
Night flowering, a perennial glow
of east coast darkness, the poet-monk
Caedmon's fire.
Sally Evans, Callander, Scotland
8 comments:
Sally Evans is the editor of Poetry Scotland and I'm delighted to include some of her work here. This poem shimmers with colour - like silk.....
I love it, beautiful work
Agreed, the words evoke the colours, almost paintable... Very beautiful words indeed.
Very soft strong contrasts, very touching, great textures in those few words, a world in a minute.
Thanks Sally.
Thanks Juliet Wilson, for providing such a great venue for these gifts that I have opened thus far. I will return for more.
This poem is wonderful if you read it out loud. I especialy like the feel of saying "by Staithes, under quayside sails".
Great blog, Juliet. Thank you.
Thanks for the comments everyone. it is a lovely poem and I'm glad you're enjoying the blog as a whoe too!
Hi,
What a cracking blog,
Im currently looking for a few people to do me a big favour and link to my blog which is about fishing in whitby. I would be most greatfull if you would consider linking to my blog which is
Whitby fishing blog
Kind regards - Glenn Kilpatrick
www.whitbyseaanglers.co.uk
Hi Glenn, Hmm that's an interesting request. Your blog is interesting but not really something that would fit into the sidebar links here (though obviously it fits well with this poem!). I'll see if I can mention it in a post on my Crafty Green Poet blog.
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