Nothing whispers more clearly to me of lonelinessThan the Stilton gone solid at the edges.She always liked blue, you see,And me just the idea of it.I opened it once, thinking it might helpTo crumble upon a tasteless soup orHopeless cracker,And never before knew a worldWhere cheese with edible moulds did not eat itselfRight out of the fridge.Now the mould is mouldy, andEven my … [Read more...] about Blue, By: Tim Baker
Open, By: Tim Baker
Reveal to me the meaning,Re-veil for me the morning.As night-fog lifts from my heavy shoulders:Revive in me the seeking and searchingAfter horizons of hope. I wake and the wind-blastCuts me open: an ice-fingerTouching my ribcage.I wince with the pain and turn to face the day. … [Read more...] about Open, By: Tim Baker