Sunday, 19 April 2015


I watch you
as your brow furrows,
try to maintain your balance
while leaning port-side,
set the glass with ice,
a slice of lime
to bury your teeth in.
Angle yourself to see under
my skin
exposed, white on white.
Wait awhile
then come into focus.

No. 266 magpie Tales. For the other writers go here.

Sunday, 12 April 2015


        painting by Daria Petrilli

You gave me a gift,
a seashell dress,
silk, as light as the  breeze
over clover scented dunes.

As pure a blue
as  low tide rock pools
on a heavenly summers day
down by the cliffs.

A row of tiny pearl buttons
reflect in a silvered mirror
my fingers fumbling over them
in this late, afternoon, light.

You half smile at my clumsiness,
I reject your offer of help.
Holding your eyes, as, at last,
I am undone.

KD 12/4/15

Number 265..For the other poets work go here.

Monday, 6 April 2015

Coaxing spring.

take off my pristine white gloves
you will find the grind of soil
trapped under my nails
evidence of coaxing spring from the earth
the unwilling participant
sleeping yet promising much
stretch soon my beauty
and give me your all.


For other poets work go here.

Thursday, 2 April 2015

Hard shell

I thought you had hurt me
but on reflection
you made me stronger
i thought that was impossible
that i was the strongest i could be
that my mettle had been tested to its limits by another.

Now my strength knows no bounds
it may look soft
bendable, fragile
but beneath it is fierce
wild and untamed
another layer added
the shell hardens.

KD for DK

Sunday, 29 March 2015


the rain from me
shelter me
for a moment
under your spell.

Walk me through
tarnished streets
brightly reflected lights
that brings chaos to my melancholy mood
I look for violet, purple madder and indanthrene blue
but find only paynes gray and lamp black.

Paint me
in every sensual hue
drawing from your memory
slick, sweat scented musk,
clary sage with hints of neroli
if scents were colours
I would be a kaleidoscope
shooting a prism of rainbows
against white washed walls.

Your fingers shadow boxing
a hare  racing
the dog panting
chase the dream
catch the essence
place it in a sandalwood box
and hide it under the bed.

KD  29/3/15

For the other writers work are here.Magpie tales no.263.

Sunday, 22 March 2015


In the dappled light of spring
you caught my soul,
carefully you plucked it
turning it over in the palm of your hand,
inspecting its hidden depths.
It squirmed under your spotlight
those eyes
painfully stripping away at the surface
scratching the hardened veneer of shame
your nails prise it open.
Laid bare now
blinking in the meadow light
tender shoots, once lost,
stretch, carefree, self possessed
shooting wayward tendrils around your wrists.

KD 22/3/15

Magpie Tale Number 262...for the other writers work go here!

Sunday, 15 March 2015

Divine sadness.

Image result for york minster

we find ourselves in
dim cold rooms
a stone clad sadness
of bitter hate
a divine liturgy repeated daily.

KD 15/3/15

For the other poets work go here