Word Jam #7

Drum snare rainfall

an electric wildfire 
swept over insane asylums

scattering survivors
of cold reason
to hinterlands of smoulder

If my numbers come up tonight
she will declare undying love

and I shall stake claims
in the sand
sentimental fool that I am


Northern Girl

Northern Girl

born in rain
raised on the northern wind

scattered over
blackstone moor

the smell of dusk
and crowberry in her hair

head cushioned
by cotton grass, bracken

the twite whispers
in her ear 

eyes suggest
the circling merlin

accustomed to

peat water 

on the Pennine ridge