Dream house of dark wood
I have brought my vinegar boy
to eat at Eglantine’s dark nights
and her novelties.
We strip the brown stairs
back to their brown skin
bend over to dip our
lids into the shock of a river.
There are mothers woven into
the worn carpets.
Rubies and aviaries
to thrill me onwards.
Blonde and eternal
Mahogany and punk
I bend the world like a bone
and long for this history.
4 comments:
Oh Anna! So beautiful. I will print this out and stick it on my study wall.
Oh I'm glad you liked it Penni.
I don't usually write my own poetry on my blog, so this is new.
xxx
Utterly gorgeous. Thank you, Anna. All our motherly dreams overlap and entwine. More poems please.
Oh yay, Kirsty.
Thankyou.
Maybe more poems on the blog, depending on...bravery.
Might be a good exercise at the moment. xxx
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