Your voice, from the garden,
urgent in the moonless dark.
I find you by the twisted willow
which wreathes the tar-faced pool.
‘There’s magic here’.
I see it.
Needles of gold unpicking night,
the willow, strung with glints,
woven into the shadows
like a nest of stars.
Lesley Quayle is a poet and folk/blues singer currently living in The Purbecks in Dorset. She has a pamphlet, Songs For Lesser Gods (erbacce), featuring her prizewinning sonnet sequence of the same name, and a collection, Sessions, published by Indigo Dreams.
Wow! Love this. Well done 🙂
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Nicely handled. Bio-luminescence is always a treasure when you see it. Unfortunately the last time I saw it was some old shrimp jettisoned down the lavatory. I think yours definitely has the romantic edge.
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