@2021 CJ RICHARDSON, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, POWERED BY DISLO

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A gloss white basin set in dark loam wood

With shiny taps that sparkle when they flow.

The walls, half-panelled, are not the colour of mud;

It’s ‘elephant breath’, a grey as soft as a shadow.

The bath stands deep and slopes at foot and head,

The fittings, sitting, centrally on the floor.

Lie down, relax, a place to rest your head.

A place to turn the key and lock the door.



And sometimes, two can leave the world behind.

The bath stands deep and slopes at either end.

With gentle suds caressing hearts and minds,

The sliding bodies falter, then transcend.

The mirror on the wall respects the scene

And quietly disappears into the steam.

Elephant Breath by C J Richardson

Poetry

Read more . . .

The Old School by C J Richardson

I hear the clang of the bell and I see myself

running on cold concrete across the school playground,

Read more . . .

Home is where the Hearth by C J Richardson

Why do you use me, abuse me so badly?

Screwing up paper and squashing it madly;

nestling the throwaway news in my innards.

Read more . . .

What a Hoot by C J Richardson

“Too whit my dear husband, please hurry, make haste

All three eggs have hatched, there is no time to waste.

The table is empty, not a bite in the house.

Read more . . .

A Race to the Sea by C J Richardson

We’re on the train that’s racing to the seaside for the day

I’ve got my towel and costume, my bucket and my spade

Outside I get a fleeting look at cows in fields of green

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Sweet and Sour by C J Richardson

Mam made a cone

from newspaper and put sugar in it.

Then she’d give each of us a stick

of rhubarb, to dip.

Read more . . .

Elephant Breath by C J Richardson

A gloss white basin set in dark loam wood

With shiny taps that sparkle when they flow.

The walls, half-panelled, are not the colour of mud;