• Poetry
  • Ode to a Blenheim Cormorant

    IMG-20170328-WA0000

     

    As five swans, together, lift their weight,
    With no little effort, toward the sky,
    My eye, yet falls, admiring, nearer ground,
    Where, on a branch that overhangs the lake,
    Not starting at the egret’s cry,
    She, unlocking not a sound,
    Who hunting over-long would drown,
    Reaches out her drenchèd wings to dry.

    A grebe, unseen, submerged, passes near-by,
    And on the shore mill pheasants, sheep and rabbits,
    But clothed in nature’s charcoal-aged habit,
    She busies not herself, but sits to dry.

    And so a long in-breath becomes a sigh,
    Cutting through all wandering, worried thoughts,
    Just to watch her perch upon the over-hanging stalk,
    And reach out her drenchèd wings, to dry.

     

    Image: Cormorant by Sonja Molina, Instagram @sonlune

  • Poetry
  • Tenement Magnolias

    magnolia poem

     

    Chattering echoes and
    light rakes the oratory,

    Everywhere blossom and soft warmth,
    pebbles, litterfall.

    A gift of small blisters,
    rhythms on the common.

    Tenement magnolias
    singing in thought, and silently –

    Lift up your hearts,
    lift up your hearts.

     

  • Poetry
  • Rust Bucket

    poetry music alexander westmacott

     

    There’s something so real
    and present and
    physical about
    the thing that counteracts
    a life of imaginings,
    spreadsheets and
    norms,

    In the jagged sharpness of
    crumpled and torn
    steel bodywork;
    an old shell rusted to
    delicacy and overgrown,

    red fringes
    refreshed by every rain,
    a shelter of history,
    a world for countless lives,

    eating under tyres and swimming
    in oil stained puddles,
    ripening in rainbow decay.