September 6, 2019

When we were last here many decades since,

We were unbroken glass, chipped but clear,

As we walk I’m looking for clues, some hints

To our boyhood spent in this city here.

And it slowly returns, history revealed,

A carved Victorian building, your voice and its tone,

Hidden me...

July 7, 2019

The sharper-eyed amongst you may recognise the picture attached to this month’s poem.  It’s the cover picture [by the enormously talented Jacky Fleming] from my latest collection, and it’s here so you can imagine the scene from earlier this year when we climbed down to...

February 10, 2019

I am tidal: my blood and heart are one

Current in me, I cycle round the bay.

Along the sea, molten silver in the sun,

Figures on the beach are inked against the day.

Wading birds still scuffle, children shout,

Dogs chase balls, and humans walk, take stock,

I feel my legs pum...

January 5, 2019

Written over twenty years ago and appearing in ‘Almost Home’ and ‘Deadly Sensitive’ this poem seems to prefigure some of my recent sonnet-making.  It’s about Spring but it is also about new beginnings so it feels appropriate for the beginning of a new year.

The morning...

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© 2018 James Morgan Nash - Writer and Poet - Leeds, West Yorkshire, United Kingdom - james@jamesnash.co.uk 

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