Skip to main content

A Way of Life

It’s become a way of life this summer,
the canvas bag slung over my shoulder
hoping not to need it
hoping the sky will stay blue
long enough to get a walk by the sea.

It’s become a way of life this summer,
wearing my green jeans,
wearing a matching sweatshirt
to keep the wind out,
wearing green wherever possible
to match my green cagoule
in case I need it.

It’s becoming a way of life, it’s true,
this life of uncertainty
which nags at the back of your mind
and keeps you constantly
looking up the weather on your phone.

It’s a way of life, this anxiety
which sends me scurrying for help
when it mushrooms out of control
in the middle of the night.

Julia
Poetry Theme(s):

Currently Popular Poems:

Solitude of Pines

With a frail And uncertain future Breathing in rhythmical pines Calms my thoughts. Solitude I seek Within the forest Amorphous blankets of snow Covering crestfallen waves. Spirited wind Melancholy whispers A tear falls Past traumas relived. Ephemeral bird calls Wispy clouds and frost Revitalises lost energies I no longer feel lost.     Matthew  
View Poem »

Hawk Moth

Hawk moth Waiting alone Tenderness revealed, In the Shadow of the Friary. Cushioned wind Stifling air Song thrush Beckons the Spirit of the summer. Afloat with thoughts Memories of Parched earth and forgotten Spheres. Suzanne
View Poem »

Alive

All of a sudden, I am awake and the sea is licking round my feet. A wall of muddy grey fringed with white assaults my mind and spirit jostling me from sleep. A wave has broken. I am alive. Felix stands on the sea’s edge; hardly a split second’s pause before he is stumbling forward, fearless into the waves, embracing the ocean, saying yes, yes I will, yes to his new friend. I have been sleep-walking, a spectator, unable to grasp this new role, the forgotten skills of grand-parenting lost in the wreckage that is Covid. Standing bemused in playgrounds, waiting for the light to dawn. Suddenly, I am woken by the waves, remembering what life consists of, remembering how to say yes, remembering how to say no, remembering what makes me who I am. Child of the sea. Julia Duke
View Poem »

Becalmed

I can no longer dot the i’s, nor cross the t’s. A pale haze, like Sunday afternoons, pleasant after a glass of wine too many, drifts across my day. I am at peace. I find myself disposed to acquiesce, content to live life at this gentle pace, content, it seems, with how life’s focus, now diminished, takes on the softened blur of evening light. Something sharp is lost. But the time for mourning it is done. The wind that swelled the sails has dropped, the tide recedes, the fierceness of the sun is quenched, leaving the sunshine’s golden glow that speaks the lateness of the hour. A taste of salt upon my lips - no call for worry or regrets - a bitter-sweet recall of what has gone. Julia Duke
View Poem »

Lost Trainers

Damsel- dragonflies alert Trainers sky blue soon to fall in Upstream A clue. Lost trainers Of picnics much fun No more isolation a drunken throw In full river Flow. Anon
View Poem »

Dunwich

Dunwich, once second to London its bells still ring far out to sea when I was young I used to find skulls, ribs and femurs scattered down its cliffs, all now buried in my heart John
View Poem »