Pumpkins become jack'o'lights
All you need to know.
© Kevin Scully 2020
UA-43417240-1
People are starving
Pumpkins become jack'o'lights All you need to know. © Kevin Scully 2020
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There is a new journal of religious poetry.
If you want to learn more about it, this blog may help. Oh, and you will find three of my poems in the launch edition. As kids we mucked
about in mud, dabbled in dirt, frolicked in filth. But lockdown love means sep’rate beds; intimate space holds new meanings: Social distance, isolated, selves sealed off by lines on the ground. Hygienic hands waving hello while longing hearts dare not unleash. © Kevin Scully 2020 My neighbour could infect me
So I will stay away from him. My neighbour might subject me; Good thoughts of him grow grim. My neighbour may dissect me-- I’ll have to tear him limb from limb. Yet my neighbour can protect me So why not shelter him? © Kevin Scully 2020 This is an early draft. Any comments to shape it better? Get in contact. Light lushes on leaves
Angled sunshine on birch trees Birds’ beaks bark questions © Kevin Scully 2020 Another purchase
It is one more gift for you My executor © Kevin Scully 2019 Chinese tourists
go to Blackman's to buy English shoes that are made in China. Go figure. © Kevin Scully 2019 Blackman's is a shoe shop - Cash is King, no cards- in London's East End. 'In God we trust; all others pay cash'. My two good friends
Have two kids each: To each a boy and girl; They watch them bend Beyond their reach: A niche is now the world. © Kevin Scully 2018 When they pinned him
to that tree – Him, I mean. Once and for all – them, you, me – He nailed it. © Kevin Scully 2018 September 14 is the Feast of the Holy Cross |
Poetry
Some thoughts and jottings from the poetic pen of Kevin Scully. Archives
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