Scent of the Rose -- by Pinkerbell

Sorrow masks the scent of the rose
Pulsating in my clenched fist
Crushed like a strangled artery.
Velvet petals, laid layer on layer
Curl tightly to its sweet core
In intricate simplicity.
Its beauty threatening to fade,
Now plucked from its source of life,
Blood red congealing into black.
Its silky skin soothing and cool,
As cold to touch as the stone
Under which you lie. Withering.
And as I place it on you its
Shape springs back immaculate
And unspoilt, as if never touched.




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Underwater -- by File

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[running into the limitations of Blogger with this one, but if you click on the images the text will become much clearer]

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A caption may possibly occur to you....?

photo by commonorgarden from flickr.com

(definitely worth clicking on the pic for a full-screen view)
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For RJDL, March 2009 -- by Ringo37

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The city’s empty. Its knackered truths –
Rhubarb sheds, the Trinity, a sandstone civic quarter,
Windblown Justice on the courthouse roof –
Are worth less than ever. The Calder water
Runs clearer than it did – but symbolism’s
Dishonest, and transparency, in any case,
Is just a word for emptiness. Perhaps it isn’t
So empty, then: the sourness is just displaced –
The river runs clear but in the town
The currents aren’t so blameless nor so bright.
It would be nice to think that this was down
To negligence – to a foreman’s thoughtless oversight:
Some lever pulled in error, some sluice or weir
Breached or broken. It would be better, and not so hard to take,
If all of this was inadvertent; there would be less to fear,
And to forgive, if all this – all this shit was just someone’s mistake.
Yes, I could get along in a world unpremeditated and unmeant.
But in the world’s patterns I discern design; I apprehend intent.

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One Swallow -- by Mimitig

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illustration by David Cobb

They say
One swallow doesn’t make a summer

But they say lots of other things
Many a mickle macks a muckle
In for a penny in for a pound

Nonsense

I see a swallow coming home
And think summer

A swallow comes to nest
At home

And brings a second swallow

So if you see the one
You’ll soon see the other

And that is summer

Two swallows make their nest
Year on year, the same place
Only diverted by bigger, uglier birds like gulls

Gulls can destroy
They are predators
And if wee swallows nest
Where vicious gulls go
Gulls win

It’s nature

Happily my swallows nest
Safely

Safe space to lay tiny eggs
Hatchlings hopefully will know
A place of safety
Will grow to chicklings
Fly the nest
And come home in a year or so

To be my new swallows

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