By: ailsaandlisa

Jul 25 2014


Category: free verse, poem


Focal Length:4.4mm
Shutter:1/0 sec

The path to the Library was lined with bilberries
and so they had to stop, rummage in a rucksack
for a bag, collect the soft blue beads.
Their heads and necks got hot in the sun.

Between thumb and forefinger she turned
a single berry, slowly, said it could be a planet
where it’s always night. He said it was the egg
of a giant mutant spider.

They picked till fingers and lips were purple,
planned pancakes, muffins, pie.
He remembered a delicious tart in Paris,
and that the French for bilberry is la myrtille.

She recalled a breakfast in New York
but decided not to mention it.


The seventh poem written by Ailsa Holland as Poet in Residence 2014 at Tegg’s Nose Country Park, Cheshire. Photo by Ailsa Holland.


4 comments on “July”

  1. Another great poem and photo, well done xx

  2. Love this, Ailsa. ‘a planet where it’s always night’ Beautiful.

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