Word Gifts
ANGELS EVERYWHERE Angels everywhere and I feel so small. This pocket in my chest seems to be made for them all. But it’s only your hands that have ever seemed to fit. Because its always on my left hand side you tend to sit. You never seem aware but what’s a boy to do. I always try to tell you when I’ve had more than a few. Your eyes never seem to wonder into my owns path. And I never have the guts to say, or even just to ask. I’ll drop a sly remark about the way you flick your hair. Try to brush away how much I really do care. And it hurts you know, to see you with someone else. But nothing that I do ever seems to help. So I shift your weight onto my right hand side. And I’ll try to brush you off of the front of my mind. But your roots grow deep and what more could I do. Where else can I go, when I’ve seen the world in you?
Ryan Madin is an up and coming writer and poet based in Edenthorpe.
A Candle We moved into the cottage On a freezing winter day. No light, no heat, no way to cook a meal. The nearest house was half a mile away Across the white-out fields. The trees on the horizon Were bent back against the wind. A blackbird sang above the frozen brook. We huddled in the bedroom With a quilt across our knees. We knew the dark was coming soon. The torch was weak, the batteries almost dead. Framed by the window a winter moon Shone on the sterile landscape. The first star appeared. Suddenly we heard a knock – A loud knock on the cottage door. We’d heard no footsteps And no sound of a car. Nothing disturbed the snowy night. He went downstairs cautiously. I waited and waited upstairs. He came back smiling, holding in his hand A huge church candle which we lit. It lasted till the dawn.
Sally Bennett is from Doncaster and is currently a student at Sheffield Hallam University. Her first poem appeared in Points North Magazine.
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