For reading click here …
In poet’s rhymes? Is there no other bird
For reading click here …
In poet’s rhymes? Is there no other bird
.., the washing up in the morning.
The Isles of Grease, in Aisles of Grease
Where burning saucepans soaking hung
It seemed last night did plates increase
Where brush is dipped and dishcloth wrung
Eternal soap suds gild them yet
And all, except my cloth is wet
It’s knit one and pearl one my darling
The pattern’s a smile for your skin
A pulled-over fabric for living
Whose weft is the kith of your kin
Don’t look away now as i ravel
The knots of the skein of my strife
Don’t leave me alone as i travel
The stumbling first steps of this life
I’m here right inside you, as sister and mother
Im here right beside you, here with our brother
The centre cannot hold (so they say)
But its us, we and love, that is truth
So its knit one and pearl one my darling
You must work out your pattern of loving
To fill your vortex of loneliness
With the ocean of joy that is life