Wednesday, 28 December 2016

Latest Poem

My Bench

Not on the tarmac esplanade
Where the proudest benches tout.

Nor facing the rising or setting suns  –
It needs no glory from light’s posturing.

Not varnished annually  –
Its grain is weathered truth.

Overgrown, uncatalogued,
It hosts no remembrance spray,
Save the blossom fall
In sadness and in triumph.

Sit away from faster paths.
Under this unpruned bower
The world in shaded silence
Unfolds itself around you.

Stuart Larner

republished from Every Day Poets
New Year Book sale 

 January sales   $0.99 

starts Dec31st.  

Must end  Jan 7th.