John Rickell

Rookie - 236 Points [Blackbird] (november 1945 / York)

John Rickell Poems

1. Blackbird 11/1/2013
2. Sculptor The 11/1/2013
3. Peels Arms Apple Pie And Cheese 11/1/2013
4. Shropshire In January 11/2/2013
5. Felix 11/2/2013
6. Is There No Rose? 11/3/2013
7. I Dreamed The Cooling Eve 11/3/2013
8. Jigsaw 11/3/2013
9. Brambles Showing Green 11/4/2013
10. Memories Of Robert Frost 11/4/2013
11. Serenade 11/4/2013
12. Intruder The 11/5/2013
13. The Hut 1 11/5/2013
14. The Hut 2 11/5/2013
15. The Hut 3 11/5/2013
16. Rent 11/5/2013
17. Rainbow 11/5/2013
18. In Praise Of The Dandelion 11/7/2013
19. Lament 11/3/2013
20. Go Slow Sweet Moon 11/3/2013
21. Sleeper Bridge 11/3/2013
22. I Must Go Back 11/4/2013
23. Where Oxlips Meet 11/4/2013
24. Lichfield On A Monday 11/4/2013
25. Breathe Deep The Midnight Air 11/7/2013
26. Love 11/7/2013
27. Judas 11/7/2013
28. Shelve Wood 11/7/2013
29. Kids In A War 11/8/2013
30. The Night Garden 11/7/2013
31. Children Playing In The Wood 11/8/2013
32. The Lady And The Parasol 2 11/8/2013
33. Awake My Love 11/8/2013
34. The Lady And The Parasol 3 (Cariatid) 11/8/2013
35. The Statue 11/8/2013
36. The Moon In Her Wisdom 11/8/2013
37. Remember Not Tomorrow 11/8/2013
38. Race Course Hollows 11/8/2013
39. Windowpanes 11/9/2013
40. Meeting 1/4/2014
Best Poem of John Rickell

Butterfly Trapped In A Norfolk Church




Where were you last Christmas
hiding in the dust behind the altar
underneath an oaken pew
patched in darker brown, not oak
like the patch on a poor man's coat
Proudly wrought?
The peace of God around you
trapped in loving kindness,
fading altar flowers no food for you
anxious glances to the door,
the mesh obstructed door to keep out birds,
which kept you in, had I not come.
You let me take you from the sill
filled my hand with joy
bride-like walked with me along the aisle.
I threw you to the sun and wind
saw flowers tremble in ...

Read the full of Butterfly Trapped In A Norfolk Church

Sculptor The

If I could sculpt my love,
search for finest porphry,
I would spend my life and carve
fit for Rome or Athens to rival
all that they display, then
weave a coat of finest silk
dyed in purple, rich and royal,
clinging close as skin
to hide you for myself.

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