I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.) They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here. Copyright also applies to almost all photos posted here, most of which are my own, though a few are licensed under Creative Commons.
Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

14 August 2011


I don’t at this moment see the flute 
but the horns are cornucopias.

He lay on a bank where willows grow
and the little ones whispered in awe.

Some paint him gross. He is elegant
though muscular, and larger than us.

I am looking at his picture on my desk,
planning where it will go on my altar.

He is a god of love in his own way,
sensual and wild, strong and tender.

He is the Nature we see around us
and also the earthy nature within us.

His full and shapely lips, his liquid eyes
and fine aquiline nose are distinctly Greek.

His pointed, fleshy ear, its whorls and folds,
indicate his animal hearing, acute.

He said he has come to this household
to take away our pain. We trust him for that.

I am no nymph but a Wise Woman,
yet his presence brings new fire to my lover.

Prompted by FormForAll - GHAZAL at dVerse

I realise, having read the comments on others' attempts, that this doesn't qualify as a ghazal — too linear in a couple of places, and every verse uses enjambment, which is a no-no. But I am pleased with the poem anyway, and will have fun practising the form.


  1. Lovely to read them. glad that you're back to a poem a day, Rosemary.

    I am as well, although I'm mailing them in postcards for August.

    It is such an energy push to write and yet gratifying as a reader to see them come and come.

  2. I hadn't even noticed it was one a day now, LOL. The influence of the dVerse site, plus starting walking again.

    Postcards, what a brill idea!

  3. it doesn't appear to be a Ghazal but I like it nonetheless. :)

  4. Sheila, I'm glad you like it. :) Although I didn't succeed at the ghazal, that form influenced me, I feel, in ways that I like too.