Truth is, I've been busy with my Open University course learning how to write novels. And the OU expressly forbids people posting their coursework on their blogs - which is a pity as I'm quite proud of some of the exercise pieces I've written. Maybe I'll be able to post them once the course finishes later this summer - assuming of course that I still like them enough.
I've also been doing a lot of map-making, but that's a whole different story!
So instead I shall break my silence with a poem I've been workshopping at a new poetry forum - Poet & Critic - which states clearly on the tin that it's "A Workshop for Metrical Verse".
We step barefoot across the still-wet humps
of Dymchurch beach, its moonlit streams an etch
of curves connecting each abandoned stretch
of sea back home. I catch your hand, my thumb
a chat-up telegraph of taps and strokes -
two strangers newly met at the party fires,
shared beers and jokes beneath the stars; desires
like this are best kept secret from our folks.
And after - after grit and groan and sweat
and lick amid the leathery strands of kelp -
I find a mermaid's purse among the threads
of nets and cans, the dog inside unwhelped.
You gift me one last kiss, a whisper: "tide's
about to turn - I'll see you round sometime."
I think this one's coming along quite nicely, and will fit in well with the chapbook of love poems I keep threatening to unleash on the world.