Foggy and other poems

by Celia Watson



Foggy froth
Blankets our land
Catching steamed breath
Like prey

Foggy fingers
Lick rusty cogs
Biting and grinding

Foggy lips Kiss the earth and blur
The line between our world and

Foggy palms
Dampen the wails and
Forgotten screams
Of reckless rails.


The Eye of the Marshland

Crickets roar against the subtle
Hum of the summer night.

Fingers of moss drape down and
Lick the sticky cement.

An orchid moon pierces through
The web of vines,

Painting mirrors on the
Lid of the lagoon.

This is the still South:
The hushed presence of nature that

Pulls us together whilst
Tearing us apart.



As I turn the page
The flame retreats
Cowering in the breeze.
It reaches and stretches
Up to its tip
Straining for balance on its
Beneath, a mess of waxy webs
Clumps and hardens
Each fibre frozen in its fall.
As the wax drips, it builds
Canyons of white soft string.
One more prayer
Added to the heap.
One more wish
Locked and bound
Never forgotten, as long as the
Mountains keep climbing
And the dreamer
Keeps dreaming.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Celia Watson is an International Baccalaureate diploma graduate based outside London. She plans to study both English with creative writing and Theatre at university. She has received 12 awards, including 4 Gold and 5 Silver Keys, from the Alliance for Young Artists & Writers (USA) for her work covering poetry, flash fiction, dramatic scripts, and humour pieces. Celia’s work has been published in The Ofi Press, Flash Fiction World, Theatre Reviews London, and MouthLondon Magazine (http://www.mouthlondon.com/author/Celia-Watson/).



painting by Samuel Barrera


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