The following is a poem I wrote in 1999 as part of a creative writing course I took at university. Our task that week was to write a poem about poetry itself, and out of everything I wrote there, this is the only thing I’m still proud of.

It’s also the last of the items I’m re-publishing from my old website before shutting it down.


A particle, a fragment
Of a vision, of a thought
Lies dormant in deep places
Unknown, unfelt, unsought
Then stirs, then quickly rises
To that call so clearly heard
Takes its place upon the page
Becomes a word.

A river, gently flowing
In each drop the legacy
Of something beautiful or painful
Of some hope or memory
Spills from my mind, my shoulder
By that call compelled to climb
Through my hand, my pen, my paper
To a line.

A landscape, shaped within me
Out of everything I’ve known
All I’ve dreamt of, hoped for, yearned for
All that truly is my own
Seeks the call of inspiration
Finds a long-awaited birth
Solidifies, materialises
Is a verse.

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