Standing by a Gate, Near Church Farm, poetry by Julian Mann at Spillwords.com
Alexander Andrews

Standing by a Gate, Near Church Farm

Standing by a Gate, Near Church Farm

written by: Julian Mann

 

The silence that exists.
My mind slow like dung heap smoke.
The moon’s siren
Chaffinch sing me my sight,
Down a track.
Just because I turn away from car

Just means I’m shy.
And I turn again.
The stillness that exists,
Of a billion, brought to bliss,
Pearls-at-head.
You wonder,
For someone who can discern
People,
On the Beacon-top

Must have its share of hells.
The night will be misty,
You have seen it born.
I daydream of a teacher’s new robe,
Of January Saxon blue.

The book of illuminated evening.

Julian Mann

Julian Mann

31, from Buckinghamshire, England. Edits Jumper Poets Press - a poetry journal on Instagram.
Julian Mann

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