A Delicate Balance and 11 P.M. Saturday

By Ian Copestick A Delicate Balance I was just looking through my note book. In the last 4 months, since everything in my life went horribly wrong. Since my beloved woman of 18 years, and then my father died, I've had 10 new poems published. Before I used to get that many published in 1 …

Blazing

By Ian Copestick Daffodils, daisies, and dandelions, the colours yellow and white blazing against the green background, even when wet, and rained upon is a sight that gladdens my heart. After months of skeletal naked trees, and muddy churned up grass that looks like the Somme, to see colours other than grey and green, the …

Snow and Ice Cream

By Ian Copestick Earlier today, I left the house to do a bit of shopping. It was bitterly cold, on the weather forecast they'd said we should get ready for snow. It looked as if they were going to be right. Now, at 4:30 in the afternoon, I've come out wearing the biggest, thickest, winter …

England, My England and It’s That Time Again

By Ian Copestick England, My England A miserable wet evening, grey skies and cold wind. England, my England. This land of grey and green. Summer's now over, and normal transmission has been resumed. Brooding skies with treacherous clouds, nothing to look forward to. Just month after month of god awful weather, being cold and wet …

Escape

By Ian Copestick As I walk there's a pleasant, green landscape full of young flowers, and trees so old. But it doesn't encapsulate the colours in my soul. There are dark, deep blues, purples and blacks Around the edges a crimson rage. Even now, I have to hold some of it back, or it would …

The Spirit

By Ian Copestick   Sweet suburbia on a summer evening, families sitting in front of their houses, getting ready for the 8'O'Clock applause to thank the N.H.S. The British people standing as one, now that there's a common foe. Perhaps this is it, that fabled blitz and Dunkirk spirit, that helped us fight alone against …

Renewal

By Ian Copestick   These light nights, after month after month of darkness after late afternoon. it feels so strange, but in a good way. The way it feels strange upon your birthday. Daffodils are blooming, but the trees still stand bare. surely it won't be long until new leaves are there. it's a renewal …

At the Top of the Hill

By Ian Copestick As I stand at the top of the hill I gaze down onto a blanket of orange street lamps, mixing in with the deep, dark purple sky. It's a strange time, spring is knocking at the door, but winter is dragging it's heels. Holding on with storms Ciara and Dennis, battering us …

Feet Will Walk Forever

By Ian Copestick   All afternoon, the snow it fell and the city came to a standstill. Just a light dusting, an inch or so, and no one knows how to drive. Me, I laugh at the fuming faces as I stroll on by. My shoe leather faster than their expensive engines. Which will soon …

Low Key, Chilled Out

By Ian Copestick A foggy, freezing cold night At the start of the new year. After taking the dog out For her nightly exercise. We enter the nice, warm Heated house. Open a Couple of bottles of wine, Eat nice cheeses and Salamis with crackers. The popular, hyped days Of the season are gone. But, …