I swallowed the moon

La Lune print from Keep Calm Gallery

I swallowed the moon

And all its silver light

Licked the back of my heart

Held a torch to the ice

But I moved too soon

And suddenly I missed

Its lustre in the sky

When my silver face it kissed.

x

Love the ones you love

I have a tortured relationship with poetry. I write it myself (usually not well enough to share) and I like the idea of reading other poems, but when I do I'm often left frustrated and lost, wondering why the heck I have no idea what it meant. Am I a complete idiot? Or just not inside that poet's head at that precise moment? Regardless, when I do find a gem that puts every word I wish I wrote in a row, it stays with me forever.


A few weeks ago I was sent a review copy of 'Dear Heart: 150 NZ Love Poems' and although it is full of beautiful poems, there is one that has been rattling around in my head ever since.


Wild Daisies by Bub Bridger


If you love me
Bring me flowers
Wild daisies 
Clutched in your fist
Like a torch
No orchids or carnations
Or roses
No florist's bow
Just daisies
Steal them
Risk your life for them
Up the sharp hills
In the teeth of the wind
If you love me
Bring me daisies
Wild daisies
That I will cram
In a bright vase
And marvel at


Wouldn't we all like a wild daisy kind of love?


Dear Heart is out today, and I have two copies to give away if you're interested? Even the cover is a thing of beauty, each letter of 'Dear Heart' has been painted by a different kiwi artist (can you spot the Frizzell?) and this would make a great gift for a bride-to-be. If you want one, leave a comment on this page and I'll announce the lucky Beaunz belles after Easter.


x

There's a mermaid in my bath

There’s a little mermaid in my bath 

I know she’s there, I heard her laugh. 

Making bubbles with the soap, 

And splashing as she does back stroke. 

I hope she knows to clean her toes

Behind her ears, below her nose. 

And though I haven’t got a tail, 

I gather it could smell quite stale, 

Like Poppa’s feet or old sardines 

Unless she gave it quite a clean. 

Though she isn’t making trouble 

I’m more than just a little puzzled. 

Did she climb up through the drain? 

And does she plan to come again? 

Then with a flicker and a glug 

She disappears back down the plug. 

A glistening, scaly tailed delight, 

I hope she’s back tomorrow night.

x