I can look back to a time when writing poetry was one of the main ways that I had for making sense of the world around me. The creative output from this time in my life actually staggers me – although sometimes I cringe at the quality – I was certainly prolific. I thought I’d share a few poems over the next few weeks, verses that would not otherwise see the light of day; but I’ll start with one of the few that ever got published. This appeared in Emerge, an anthology of poetry, prose and drama, edited by Jude Simpson and Jane Campion and showcasing the work of the Subway Writers group.
Common Things Some things are fairly common Like waking up In a meadow of rolling linen Hearing over the hills The breathing of a mate in The tide of their own dream world Stopping long enough to mark the Progress of a shadow across The yard Holding a hand under A running tap waiting For it to warm Falling silent on the hour to Hear the chiming of the outside world In the newsreader's voice In saying these things I Keep your company in The moments you thought you were alone