Everyday Poetry

Richard Burton At our poetry group this afternoon Judy and I shared a joke about the lushness of Richard Burton's voice.  Here's a poem which captures the effect he has on us. Under Milkwood And Burton's voice Melts our insides like chocolate In the heat of his tongue. The cadence of each line a hypnosis, Drowning us in desire. Vowels arouse Sibilants caress Licking into our ears Like a lover aching to possess Every inch of skin. As the climax draws closer Each of us sighs, Willing him to shipwreck in our thighs. © Copyright 2019. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved

Autumn Sometimes a poem just comes to me unbidden as I'm going about my day,  or as in this instance, as I'm driving along the country lanes. Autumn And the time of slow, careful driving Avoiding the dull-witted, frenzied wild panic Of flash-gaudy pheasants and their ghost-pale wives. Autumn And the time of gathering and bagging The bright drift of leaves from gilt-blazing trees A gift to balance the faint waning sun. Autumn And the time of hearty homemade soups Bursting with flavours grown over the summer Harvested, held ready for thick crusty bread. Autumn And the time of closely drawn curtains Shutting out the night-dark and draughty cold winds Hunkering down in the log-fire warmth inside. © Copyright 2019. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved