Succulent serves juice as word,
sweet taste and sound of sucking lent,
such contrast to its desert, parched,
yet tank, its cistern, reservoir,
and spikes, protection for the sap.

A bud of pink is promise red,
a hint, tinge bloom, embarrassed blush,
some rarity in public realm,
exposure soon for common weal,
example, global greenhouse style.

If only earth was splashed same way,
with water aid beneath the soil,
its moisture trapped, tap needing route -
but well provided, boring tale
for those whose thirst is satisfied.


Stephen Kingsnorth



Stephen Kingsnorth, retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church with Parkinson’s Disease, has had pieces published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies, most recently Poetry Potion, Ariel Chart, The Parliament Literary Journal, Ink Sweat and Tears, Visual Verse.

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