John Rickell Poems

The curlew no more
stalks the estuary
winter is gone.
I hear but one cuckoo
...

It was 1840 and the potatoes failed,
The English printed postage stamps
While bison roamed the prairies.
We couldn't ‘fford the boat fare
...

Calm and still,
no turmoil in the air
the same as last we met,
I hear the gentle waves
...

Spring dissolves winter's gloom
distilling opening buds drop
their scales now snow is gone,
chestnut leaves carried home
...

Two glasses on the table
standing tall crystal clear,
strangers as we talked,
waiting, we sat in velvet chairs,
...

The fields free of snow
these thirteen days.
the garden half dark
and a blackbird sings;
...

It is the noon, I feel it on my face
yet all is dark, black on black.

'Fret not nor weep, open wide your eyes
...

The day had started wet
Telford's road glistening in the rain
passed Llangollen's busy streets
and tumbling Dee.
...

Statuesque, handsome, flowering
in the shade beneath wild crab
tempting as of ages, past
legends steeped in belief,
...

The fen, black, below the road,
Dykes wide and straight,
sink of thirteen counties,
draining fields of leeks
...