by Catherine Thomas
Silver, blue-black, glittering,
The crescendo of soda shattering on its blade
like in pirate stories.
Fossils strewn around your feet
As a king claims his treasure, a soldier his kill.
Kaleidoscopic skeletons in their slow starshine.
Wax-jacket weather,
Shrouded in a cocoon of home-scented warmth
That smuggles you away from twinkling graves
And make-believe pirate ships,
The lonely darknesses
And the cruel, ever-creeping tide.
–
Catherine Thomas is from Guernsey. She has had several short plays produced in London and Oxford, and last year completed an MA in Writing for Stage.
The Pygmy Giant 
#1 by John Ritchie on May 25, 2011 - 8:11 am
Ah, the wonderful Jurrasic Coast.
A powerful, evocative poem. I could almost smell the salt.
Terrific!
John
#2 by jennifer walmsley on May 25, 2011 - 1:30 pm
Great poem. Really enjoyed this.