{"id":612,"date":"2017-04-07T10:59:24","date_gmt":"2017-04-07T09:59:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.gilliebolton.com\/?page_id=612"},"modified":"2017-04-12T17:05:11","modified_gmt":"2017-04-12T16:05:11","slug":"poetry","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.gilliebolton.com\/?page_id=612","title":{"rendered":"Poetry"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Photograph
Photograph by Stephen Rowland<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Champagne<\/h2>\n

it takes a bit
\nof determination
\nto unwind the wire
\nand work off the
\nprotective
\nlayers
\nof gilt
\nbut then
\nheld between
\nthe thighs, the
\nrounded top needs
\nno further pressure
\nfrom thumb tips or mouth
\nto gently rise, with a shout
\nthe froth springs as it spangles
\nmy skin and sings through my veins<\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>
Photograph by Dan Rowland<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Mum\u2019s Magic<\/h2>\n

Mum\u2019s a juggler of dates and plans,
\nplates and pans all go up in the air
\nto be caught in her hands that do dishes<\/p>\n

it\u2019s mum who can make a wet morning shine
\nwhen it\u2019s mucky outside
\npancakes are suns and lemons are moons<\/p>\n

in the sizzling fat of the tossing
\nand twirling deep yellow of batter
\nand the curl of the butter, cascade of fine sugar<\/p>\n

the drizzles of syrup and milk
\nfrothing white as the cumulus clouds
\nmop up the misery of moping indoors.<\/p>\n

But – there\u2019s a monster
\nwho jeers and who leers
\nfrom the mouth of the mask of the mummy<\/p>\n

who shouts in her mending of squabbles and muddles,
\nflour on the floor and mud in the sink
\nand everyone melts.<\/p>\n

Mum in a miserable puddle wants tea and a cuddle
\nsomeone to sit on her knee, to nestle up close
\nand not want the marvel of spangle of balls in the air.<\/p>\n

Now she\u2019s dropped all the balls, she\u2019ll try a new guise<\/p>\n

for Mum the magician
\nhas marvellous moments
\na magical Mum is a must for the home<\/p>\n

out of her hat come socks and pyjamas
\nmoney on Monday, medicine
\nand music<\/p>\n

magical mum when she looks in the mirror
\nsees only the back of her head
\nfor the razzle, the dazzle<\/p>\n

the speed of her life
\nensure she is always just one trick ahead
\nmoving much faster than light<\/p>\n

with a quick sleight of hand, she puckers
\nand pulls at the rubber of the skin
\nof the mask on her head<\/p>\n

she yanks it right off – Abracadabra –
\nthere\u2019s the mum of the moment
\nwith a smile and clean floor and white sheets<\/p>\n

she\u2019s a fresh face for each day
\nbut peel them off as she may
\nwhat\u2019s beneath is still only<\/p>\n

a mask.<\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\"New<\/a>
Original photograph: New Angel Wings by shadavar-stock on DeviantArt<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

A pair of Wings to fly with<\/h2>\n

\u2018Reach up high, onto the high shelf!\u2019<\/p>\n

I had to fetch a stepladder, brush my hand
\nover cobwebby planks; but the whole cupboard
\nwas empty as Mother Hubbard\u2019s.<\/p>\n

\u2018Try again\u2019, you said.
\nStill nothing.<\/p>\n

\u2018You\u2019re not looking properly!\u2019
\nand there it was.<\/p>\n

But how could something so infinitesimal
\nbe what I\u2019m looking for?<\/p>\n

When I shook it out, I knew what it was:
\na pair of wings
\njust my size.<\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\"Harley<\/a>
Original photograph: Harley Davidson & Chopper Wallpaper, Published by adam<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Out of the Blue
\n(or The Real Hell\u2019s Angel)<\/h2>\n

You roar up on a Harley Davidson,
\nleathers all patched and grazed,
\nskid to a halt, dust flying,
\nstrip gauntlets from muscled hands,
\nwrestle off your helmet
\nand push sudden ringlets
\ngolden out of your eyes.<\/p>\n

The girls scream, but you seem not to hear,
\nturn your heaven-blue gaze on us,
\nand shrug great shoulders out of your jacket
\nso your wings unfurl until they tremble
\nabove your head.<\/p>\n

You take our hands, and the touch
\nis so soft it\u2019s electric.
\nAnd then you lead the way:<\/p>\n

the girls aren\u2019t screaming any more,
\nnor the lads scowling
\nas we all fly off haloed – on Goldwings,
\nHarleys, and Norton Commandoes:
\nfeathers instead of leather.<\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\"Photo<\/a>
Photograph by Dan Rowland<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

\u00a0Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf<\/h2>\n

I hold up my chin
\nas Mum fastens the buttons
\nand ties up the hood of my red shiny mac.<\/p>\n

\u2018Tell Granny we love her
\nand give her these cakes and these flowers.
\nBut beware in the woods.\u2019<\/p>\n

Red is the light of the day on my head
\nthrough my crimson umbrella:
\na shield from the footsteps of rain.<\/p>\n

Daddy holds out his hand
\nand I take it – the path is all
\nslippy and sloshy with wet.<\/p>\n

The quicksilver bole of the beech
\nis the pole of a tent and the pattern of leaves
\non the grey of the sky is a roof.<\/p>\n

I am cold, my legs bare.\u00a0 But I do as I\u2019m told
\nin the wet and the rustle
\nand the grunt of the whispers of the wood.<\/p>\n

Granny caresses my cheek and my hair:
\n\u2018You look pale dear; your lip trembles
\nand, oh your hand shakes.<\/p>\n

The wind in the trees should bring
\nroses of joy to your skin,
\nwhen you walk with your daddy,<\/p>\n

You\u2019re safe with your daddy,
\nhe\u2019s so big and so strong with such a sharp axe,
\nand he loves you so much.<\/p>\n

\n
\"\"
Photograph by Stephen Rowland<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Take Care Once You Start Writing<\/h2>\n

You are about to enter a danger zone
\nWear protective clothing around your heart
\nTake off your shoes<\/p>\n

\"Drawing<\/a>
Drawing by Jill Gibbon<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Writing can seriously damage your sadness
\nWriting can seriously damage your nightmares
\nYou are in danger of achieving your dreams<\/p>\n

Once started you won\u2019t be able to stop
\nNor will you want to
\nAnd others might catch it too<\/p>\n

You are in serious danger of learning you\u2019re alive
\nYou are in serious danger of laughing out loud
\nYou are in serious danger of loving yourself<\/p>\n

If it gets in your eyes, consult your loved ones
\nIf it gets in your mind, cancel your therapist
\nIf it gets in your heart, hold on tight<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Champagne it takes a bit of determination to unwind the wire and work off the protective layers of gilt but then held between the thighs, the rounded top needs no further pressure from thumb tips or mouth to gently rise, with a shout the froth springs as it spangles my skin and sings through my … <\/p>\n

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