written by: Jenny Middleton
Gloves lined with silken darkness
Welcome my hands to memory;
their interior rich with the smooth touch
Of things held and held before;
As if we were relearning our vows
As a language grown old sings
With words once rusted,
seized and deadened,
Amongst a tangle of docks and nettles,
Or choked with bind weed’s grasp.
And now as clay is worked clear
turned on its wheel to rings
and is worn up to the tenderness of sculpture
these words rise from their base vowels
to sentence the sublime
unfastening us from the everyday.
Jenny Middleton's poems have been published in various printed anthologies and online sites. Jenny studied English Literature and Drama at university and went on to study a postgraduate degree in education to qualify as a teacher; she is now a working mum. Her poems are often drawn from real experiences or inspired by artwork.
Latest posts by Jenny Middleton (see all)
- I Think of Internet Trolls - February 28, 2023
- Nan’s Piano - November 30, 2022
- A Letter to My First Car - August 12, 2022