POEM OF THE MONTH

from 'Safe European Home'

Imagine a rowan, her May leaves wet,
Kissing your shoulder with late spring rain,
Imagine your mind like a moistened bud
Drinking her sweetness. Imagine her leaves
Turned light side up with the weight of her berries
August-heavy in the full milk moon.
Imagine her berries
Spilling their juices like healing oils
Over your November loneliness.
That's how Mother Boudicca loves you.

__________________But what if she's
A death cup, brimming with poison? what
If this bare-armed Bronze Age queen
Is taking me where I've no stomach to go?
I shiver and rise from her poor dead arms
In my raw winter night, hearing soft weeping
Pass on a warm breeze, sense honeyed birdsong,
A deep bronzed arm,
___________________my pale skin petalled
With flowers from a summer 2,000 years gone

from section III of the 1998 Frontier Publishing collection 'Britain's Dreaming.'

For those who saw the show "Boudicca; Britain's Dreaming" , this trembly lyrical section followed a duet between the bard and the muse (played by Boudicca) which fused punk rhythms with (near) simultaneous Celtic orgasms!

Visit the purchase page for details of how to buy 'Britain's Dreaming'