The Dragon Tree - James Willis

Today's poem is a "Golden Oldie" and was originally published here in March 2012

In fertile fired fissures grown
The weirdest wonders ever known,
But the strangest single sight to see
Is the rare Canarian Dragon Tree.

This agricultural aged delight
Spreads its limbs to heaven’s height,
Its ariel arteries grow, but slow,
To root, again, in the ground below.

A branch is born and grows, intact,
Another sprouts, to counteract,
Balance and ballast and buttress combine
In an Archimedean spiral design.

The sap that oozes from broken bark
Is rusty red, to leave its mark.
Medicinal remedy lore is rife
Of Dragon ‘blood’ enhancing life.

Disputed dates, debated wide,
Rumour oft retains its pride.
The sight emits emotion, strong,
The centuries seem to roll along.

Tales are told, of time and size,
Of great gatherings of the wise,
Who met and massed within the girth
Of the amazing oldest tree on Earth!

James Willis

This Morning - Trudie Shannon

A cool fresh morning, the sun glints playfully upon the water.
The tide is on the turn, has run out of energy,
Cannot bear to leave the Mother sea for too long.
A breeze passes, creates ripples, then comes to rest,
Momentarily earthbound, in the blossom laden mimosa tree.
The blooms turn every which way to hold it,
But all too quickly, it has untangled itself, and continued on its way,
Hushing up the hillside field, taking the sweet mimosa scent with it.
Cauliflower stumps lay exposed, their few remaining leaves
Soured brown and starting to rot.
Soon, everything will be folded over neatly by the plough
And sent back into the dark earth.
Wintering geese float languidly upon the outgoing tide,
Stopping from time to time, as the water eddies beside reeds and grass,
They eat, savour, then continue the retreat as the tide dictates.
A clock tick tocks in the kitchen
A different language to that of nature outside of these four manmade walls
Which moves on lunar heartbeats,
To its own secular rhythm.

Trudie Shannon

Nora - Diane Scantlebury

Nora serves the coffee
Nora serves the tea,
Nora clears the debris
Left by you and me,
Nora wipes the tables
Keeps everything spotless and clean,
In the background she silently does her job
Virtually unseen,

Nora has a boyfriend
Not that you would know,
On her day off they drink wine and beer
And to the cinema go,
Nora’s happy in her world
Never lets her feelings show,

Nora sets the tables
Nora mops the floor,
Nora makes everything perfect
For the evening shift,
Then she closes the restaurant door,
Knowing tomorrow will be like today
And the same as the day before.

Diane Scantlebury

Friends - Lyndon Queripel

What are friends for
Or what is more
Why can't I see
How much I can be
My own worst enemy ?

Lyndon Queripel

Road To Eternity - Ian Duquemin

Upon the blacktop came his end
His leathers torn like paper skin
A screaming engine drowned the sound...
As bones cracked from within
The chrome and steel horse he rode
Bucked and kicked its way to hell
Spitting bits of broken tire
Its breath a burning rubber smell
Bloody oil on Tarmac dried
Machine and man lie side by side
1957 passed... And death was such a blast

Ian Duquemin