Shiny shine


Milk on the turn

midnight history muffles

owl’s cry: narcissus pulsing

through dull earth to release

birthday colour.


I’ve become muted: afraid

of the shine shine glitter

hidden here as time

brushes messages

on parched skin.


Pacing corridor

always waiting for

sun – skim star-burn

impatient of humdrum

yearning magnificence.


Milk on the turn

garden hovers  to unfurl

blossom of spring: new joy

pulsates at the click click clunk

of the white sea gate.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.