Cabochon – Kathy Gee

Cabochon

(for T & J)

They’re amethyst and agate, fighting life
for thirty years like gemstones under water.
Bicker-banter’s how they draw me in.

I’m oxbow-taut and half expect a breach,
a burst of plunging flood between the rocks.
I had forgotten how they shine in spate.

As rapids flick my feet from under,
she wins an outburst, he diverts the flow.
A rueful smile acknowledges her reach.

Lips meet in light reflection, lowered lids
like hanging branches. Love is polished
by the timeless grinding together of edges.

 

Kathy Gee’s career is in heritage and in leadership coaching. Widely published online and on paper, her poetry collection was published by V. Press http://vpresspoetry.blogspot.co.uk/p/book-of-bones.html and she wrote the spoken word elements for a contemporary choral piece – http://suiteforthefallensoldier.com/

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Recalculating – Kathy Gee

Recalculating

His kindred spirit died at far too young.
There was a time I hoped to be his next;
I didn’t try to kiss him, I’m not daft.
Take slip road left then enter roundabout.

I watched him leave the highway, go off-road
to some seductive forest where a princess
chased him and he wanted to be caught.
I was the voice of reason down the phone:
Perform a U turn when it’s safe to do so.

So glad he’s found a wife to wed,
without him I might not have traded smiles
with you along that backroad in Missouri.
Enter roundabout and take third exit.
Everything is burgeoning – that springing
willow, him and her, and us. And us.
Drive for thirty years along the bypass.

 

Kathy Gee’s first collection – Book of Bones – was published by V. Press in May 2016:  http://vpresspoetry.blogspot.co.uk/p/book-of-bones.html. In the same year, she wrote the spoken word elements for a contemporary choral piece – http://suiteforthefallensoldier.com/ .

Mr Bairstow lives alone – Kathy Gee

Mr Bairstow lives alone       
 
The doorbell rings. A squelch of friendly boots
and insults brings him cake from the village shop.

Where cold spaghetti did for lunch, he casts
an artful tea towel on the pan for one,

then kicks aside his pile of laundry. Mustn’t trip
his neighbour, eyes far-focussed on the yard.

He smells of bubble bath, of mocha coffee
from a sachet that he hides from posher eyes.

Alone is how he likes it. If there’s ever wine
in the afternoon, that doesn’t mean he’s lonely.

 

Kathy Gee’s first collection – Book of Bones – was published by V. Press in May 2016:  http://vpresspoetry.blogspot.co.uk/p/book-of-bones.html. In the same year, she wrote the spoken word elements for a contemporary choral piece – http://suiteforthefallensoldier.com/ .