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Spreading Health

a white paper tissue sticking out of a blue box of tissues with a bright yellow background
How much better it is to use a hanky or tissue
than to propel germs, bacteria, viruses.
How much better to keep that hanky
up your sleeve
then to wash it
in 30 degrees or to compost
that tissue for bugs
and worms to consume
making soil to grow food for health.

Sue Foster

Photo by Diana Polekhina via Unsplash

 

Poetry Theme(s):

Currently Popular Poems:

Community of Stones & Souls

Timeless, resilient stones; Miraculous creations. Fractured, yet not destroyed; Revealing artistic beauty within. Assembled into a constructive entity; A purposeful community of stones. Timeless, resilient souls; Miraculous creations. Fractured, yet not destroyed; Revealing artistic beauty within. Assembled into a constructive entity; A purposeful community of souls.   by Adrian
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Tins

Back then, I couldn't understand. Why so many tins, mum? Towers of carrots, beans and soups. Spaghetti in tomato sauce. She was shaped by war and disability. Rations and depletions. Unreachable shops. The anxiety of uncertainty. Now I'm shaped by the virus war. Rations and depletions. Unsafe shops. The anxiety of uncertainty. I understand, now, and worry. Look at my own tin towers. Just ahead of the panic, Stores drying up, fear building. Ashamed of how I mocked. Unable to say sorry, To say that I understand. Complacent no more. by Adrian Image by Ti Wi via Unsplash
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Undercover Marks

Nonsensical marks archiving thoughts and traces of Freedom. A library of blemished Recoveries And rejuvenation Stamps the ideal. Robert
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Seasons

To each a season: the planets Turn in Kepler's gyre, Swelling the mental weather, Fattening the wealth Of light and dark I weekly Feel in my own solitude. To each a season: a death Of what was hard and cold: A burst of sun to break My hoary sadness And gild the shining tower I build around your smile. But let's not talk of sun But speak instead of life And all the things I feel When living through mortality. The lovely times We feast and meagre times We only feed on memories. I have my seasons. Tim Holt-Wilson
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Lone Stone

Stone, stone Oh who to be a stone? Don't moan We are all on our own Even as a stone! Josh
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Blue Sky

Blue sky And clouds float by Looking up high I can see why They do fly Blue sky Mavis
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North Transept

A stone milk tray Eyes of the past Watchful of progress. Golden ochre-pink Periwinkle scar A ship’s ballast from afar. Separate yet together United they stand Teapot and hen. Sharp, knobbly eyes Faces forgotten by wind Trampled and thinned.   by Stephanie
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Shallow Souls, North Downs Way

Amongst the shallow souls Of oak, ash and elm Uprooted beech and box Tunnels Parcelling light Reaching wooded floor Through toppled trunks. Through decaying litter Eroded scarp slope Bewitched yew And opportunistic birch; Funghi a mass Dusted flints And twisted ankles. Sickly, sinewy ash Clusters of wild herbs Wood rush and brambles In fallen pockets Reams of light, Brightness to the isolated, Hope on the murderous path. Stephanie
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River Linnet

River Linnet, A chalk stream In Bury. Rubbish, Let’s bin it Instead of Filling it. Edith St-King
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Ominous

Unexpected darkness descends With a decrepit desire for long absent affection, clutching at thin wispy ends with diminished thoughts and caged responses my deserted smile departed. Jill
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