BREAK UP

colourful garden

                      BREAK UP

This was the night when everything was broken,
When stars collided and fell into silent lonely gardens,
Into dark streets and lamplit highways,
Into houses with slammed doors and rooms full of emptiness,
Where shadows waited in perfect safety
For no-one was there to tread on them.

Outside, the yellow light from the tall street lamp
Threw gold over the green bushes and leaves,
Over the leaves dripping greenness into the darkness
And search as you might,
No spilt blood could be found on this ground,
Spilt only in the heart of the discontinued lover,
Who whispered and sighed,
Lamented and cried,
At how suddenly everything was lost and broken.

But all disconsolate lovers must pull themselves together,
Begin to consider how to mend that fractured heart,
So that a repaired lover may shine like one newly minted,
Who notices for the first time, how all the leaves
In the greeny darkness,
Are edged with gold.

                                        ©2020 Gwen Grant

WORDS AND THINGS

people talking


WORDS AND THINGS
 

Sometimes, I gather up all the words I love and watch
them playing together.
It doesn’t do to have favourites, I know that,
But who can resist words that sizzle on the page and dance.
Some so irresistible whole poems are built around them. 

Colours are always delectable,
Weaving their way through every get-together.
Colour words do, of course, have to be dealt with extremely carefully,
As favouring lemon over green
Will attract very sharp looks from orange. 

Full stops and commas, paragraphs, colons, semi-colons,
Little Latin phrases, ‘Et tu, Brutus,’ etcetera, etcetera,
And those little raindrop marks that attend every speech,
Must all be taken into account
But can be missed out altogether if careless of censure.
Recommended. 

A word of advice.
Do not ever forget the numbers family,
For if they are ignored or forgotten they get quite vocal,
Even a little spiteful and unforgiving.

No!  Keep them in sight at all times,
Insisting they play nicely.
One and one making two, for instance.
Otherwise, you can never bring them to order,
Even when put into really pleasant columns,
They remain difficult and wilful. 

 But there we are, that’s words and things for you. 

                                                   ©2020 Gwen Grant

FLOWER VASE

vase of bluebells

       FLOWER VASE

 That vase,
Beaming at me from the mantelpiece,
Belonged to my mother.

Once I filled it so full of flowers,
Water leaked all over the table,
But the flowers looked beautiful,
Reflected in the sunlight. 

                   © 2020 Gwen Grant