Imagine a Poem

Claire Solesbury

Words alone cannot express
How I am feeling right now.
I can use language
That aims to create
A picture in your mind.

I am conjuring an image
On this page
With only black letters,
You add the colour as you read.

If I write flowers
You picture a few single blooms, or,
Possibly the cascading colours,
Red, yellow, blue and gold intermingled.

If I tell of waterfalls what do you see?
A small trickle reflecting sunlight
As it cascades off of a cliff, or the gush of blues
And whites edged with soft green?

Sunrises, sunsets
Red, yellow, gold, purple,
Blue, pink and orange.
Imagery and metaphors exercised in scores.

I only have this pen,
This white page,
And the power of the mind.
The images can only be permitted by
Your power of thought.

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Reflections of Life

Claire Solesbury

Candyfloss blossom turning to fruit
Flowers blooming, violently,
Then gently dying
To leave the seeds for the creation
Of a new generation,
From the male and female
Married at birth.

Rows of manicured flowerbeds,
The tall poppy standing alone in a cornfield
Blooming hopefully, smiling dolefully.

The soft brown of the soil
Turning to hard dark grey.
The beginning of a long, hot summer
Interrupted by the gentle punctuation of rain
Hammering on the hard dark grey
Returning it to the former soft brown.
The cycle of weather
No beginning and no end.

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Suburban Storm

Claire Solesbury

Prisms of light
Cast from raindrops,
Rippling noisily
In pale puddles.

That punctuated smell,
Damp brown earth;
Contrasting and mingling
With that pungent smell –
Black tarmac.

Piercing yellow splays
Dividing clouds,
Dissecting the dark blue-grey
Of the storm lit sky.

A quiet rumble of thunder
Drowned gently by
The patter of rain.
The storm has begun.

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