Ease

You are gone now.

In darkness

winter disappeared

into comfort

into peace

not thinking 

being inside

Deep.

Apart 

from the one

who made you feel.

For a time

you were broad

and carried 

the weight of the world

upon your shoulders

with ease.

Ease is slippery

like time

If it passes comfortably

it's anaesthesia,

sometimes welcome.

And have you really lived?

by Jennifer Phillips

© Jennifer Phillips

A darkening tree

Two children dreamt

of long ago

and stood before a darkening tree

not know when who became

or where she dwelt.

nightfall fell - 

and long ago was now

and trees were stone

you and I were there

we cried - remember when?

for then was now 

and we were dead

the woods were dark.

The children stood

hand in hand

and fear was there

for not knowing, who became

or where she went - 

but seeing eyelids close

and nightfall come

seeing through the ages then

eyelids close one by one.

and standing there

for you and I to see

before we parted.

murderous tree

outstretched its limbs

the tree asking, in the dark

for caresses

that were more of mine

than yours - and time

was there, Elizabeth too

standing. dreaming,

of summer days to come

and years to pass.

by Joy Hester

© Jennifer Phillips

Rhododendrons before the storm

Rhododendrons before the storm © Jennifer Phillips

Poem

On the fine nights of summer, I will go on the paths

Pricked by the wheat, to tread on the slender grass;

Dreamer, I will feel the freshness on my feet,

And let the wind bathe my bare head.

I will not speak, I will not think,

but love will fill my heart,

And I will go far, far away, nonconformist

By nature - happy as with a woman.

by Arthur Rimbaud (translated by Sunday Reed)

Dreamer

Away I went fists in my torn pockets.

My coat too became perfection.

Under the stars Muse your faithful friend,

Oh what love I dreamed.

My only trousers had a big hole.

Tom Thumb dreamer, shedding rhymes on my way.

My inn was the Big Bear.

My stars in heaven softly rustled their silk.

And I listened sitting on the side of the road

Those good September nights where I felt 

Dewdrops on my face like strong wine:

Where rhyming in the middle of those faery shadows

like lyres, I held the rubber of my worn out shoes,

A foot against my heart.

by Arthur Rimbaud (translated by Sunday Reed)

Dream for Winter

In winter we go in a little pink carriage

With blue cushions

We will be happy. A nest of kisses rests

In each soft corner.

You will close your eyes so as not to see

The evening shadows making faces through the window,

Those snarling monstrosities,

Mob of black demons and black wolves.

Then you will feel a scratching on your cheek.

A little kiss, like a mad spider,

Will run on your neck.

And you will say to me, 'Look!'

Leaning your head,

And we will take a long time to find that little beast

- who travels so much.

by Arthur Rimbaud (translated by Sunday Reed)