poetry diary

I rhyme to see myself, to set the darkness echoing. (Seamus Heaney, from Personal Helicon)

Month: March, 2013

The Havana cafe, Leamington Spa

Chocolate on the cappuccino etched into “Che”,
and a languid jazz backing track.
Slow service, with a smile,
and battered paperbacks amongst eclectic art
of faded intensity
and forlorn hope.
A saxophone and trumpet on the wall,
and 1950s ceiling fan, expelling the English winter.
The Financial Times and concert flyers
on a battered piano with wax-stained candlesticks;
a chalked advert for a wine-tasting evening;
plain wooden tables
and assorted chairs.
Cigars at twenty pounds a go;
some customers chatting gently – most reading.
Thus fully-equipped to solve the problems of the world,
I prefer to forget time, and watch instead
the gentle sway of the waitress’s hips.


Perfect cafés are hard to find, or define. I feel this one does pretty well; it’s a regular weekend haunt these days.

Posted on Poets United and dVerse.


Watching a snowflake
against March skies, a robin
takes wing, with a twig.


That red summer rose,
stem parting moistened lips;
your eyes wide, hold me.


I’m feeling romantic.

A falling raindrop

A falling raindrop,
surprising a rose petal,
becomes velvet tears.