Friday, 29 January 2010

re POEM 6


In Aberdeen
or a coastal Welsh town,
I imagine it to be a sanctuary
for the weary and wanderlust
traveller –

where after organic Full English
the eating area will function
as a literary lighthouse
where transients saunter
in to muse over Larkin or Muldoon,
perhaps linger (a cuppa in hand) with Coetzee
or Murakami;

while a subtle chime
sounds above doorway, making
way for footfall rhyme; a stream
of cold-blushed clientele
wrapped in fleece
and wool.

In the late evening: among
sagging book-shelves, a local
poet weaves simile and metaphors
in poetic effervescence; pattering like
soothing summer rain

until an Open Mic session evolves,
evolving to create a world
within itself, as I have
done in the wilds of a Welsh
or Gaelic landscape.

Catherine Mark


Gerry Boyd said...

The pressure to write suits you well. Lovely. Keep it up!

cheryl said...

A place for creative souls to get lost in, well done !