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Sunday, July 15, 2007


There is one thing about poetry, even if life takes you away from spending much time writing (as it is doing with me at the moment) there is always time to scratch out a short poem. Here's one from today ...

Winter's Game

Blobs of colour
dart in winter sun
yellow, red across the green
feet run, foot to ball
in breathless ancipation
of the goal.

And over all, the mountains
dressed in winter's coat
watch from afar
ancient touchline parents
beaming in the sun:
well done James!
well done!

Posted by fordy at 8:41 PM Comment by eMail
Categories: About writing, Poetry   Entry: PermaLink