Musings – Brighton Brightstar

Deluge

It is World Poetry Day. A day that I, a less prolific poet than I wish to be, hold dear in my heart. By some twist of scheduling, it is also the International Day of Forests. A day to recall the woodlands of childhoods well spent, the mystique of ecosystems.

Anno

This morning, like every morning, I shut the door behind me and walked up the stone steps of my subterranean home, emerging into sunlit-seafront haze.

The Implacable Romance of Friendship

They’re found in the strangest of places, these second sorts of soulmate, and never when you’re expecting.

Suspended Animation

The first step is always the strangest, traversing from earth to air, throwing myself backward until something else takes over. And it does.

Anatomy of Anticipation

When I first gave myself to you it wasn’t through desire, or even admiration. No, the first time you came blazing into my world like a comet, it was simply because you could see it.

Hastening On

This morning, like every morning, I shut the door behind me and walked through the morning-lit park into town. Except this morning, the birds that graced the frost-laden lawn were gulls and mallards, not the chattering jays of Riegrovy.

A Sleepless Eremite

“Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art.” Or would I?