MY MAGDALENA

My Magdalena

Seized rumours placed her on a Narbonensis shore

long before brief sojourns took me southward

truth is it doesn’t really matter

she had slipped in garbs of red long before

the dawn of Paul was grounded in his Rabat grotto

and like future lovers she had no call on me at all

then a trinity of de Grailly women took to bathe

each in turn lowered with their white shrouds into the

transforming water for each emerging Magdalena

rusted waters drained only for the story to be retold

their shrouds long gone new lovers stitch linen hems

for themselves to live in and enfold the myth

flickering the image into my blindness

bade me go and find those who paint anew

In search of Magdalena

This is an online gallery on my Flickr site.

In search of Magdalena

 Photo by Andrea Kennard from the gallery.

Accusation

Dark dream at five o’clock
Like incoming Bandits
Stealing sleep

Kicking you awake
Robbing any chance
To greet the day
On equal terms

The tube of darkness
Has been broached
And seeps crablike
Into the crevice
That was secret

Unstopped playback
Backs up the first
Assault

But what really
Gets to you is
Self-generated
Uncontrolied
Shrinkage