NW3 – A Sonnet to a Postcode

keats_free
Keats’ house, Hampstead.

For a brief while during my student days in London I lived at a very desirable address in NW3 – on the Hampstead/Belsize Park borders. Not far from Keats’ beautiful home. Of course my accommodation was a typical student hole with shared facilities, but for a while there I felt I could soar. Here’s another sonnet – I told you I’ve been working hard on poetic form – but some rules are made to be broken…

You called it precarious and spindly, so I stopped

inviting you up dusty stairs,

my isolated bubble-nest at the top

of the world. Forget shared kitchen, bathtub hairs.

Across the hall Ariel made yoghurts live,

while Tosh wrote cleaning rota lists.

I draped white billows over furniture

mouldy, mismatched and grim. I felt the bliss

of my first double bed.  Alone.

This attic is forever summer, on the brink

of endless choice, dreams all my own.

A room of pleasing no one but myself and Keats,

the desk where I write Chapter One again,

again, ‘cos time is endless and I’m at peace…

Once in my life I had a posh abode:

an empty shell in the correct postcode.

 

Summer Break – and My First Sonnet

It’s a very special Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets today – the last one before the summer holidays. So join us there for some fireworks, summer fun and lots of good poetry! Which my example below is probably not, but it’s my first attempt at a sonnet. [I don’t usually do formal poetic forms.]

BigCatLittleCat
From the Big Cat Small Cat advert by Whiskas.

You tell me love’s for fools and nuts, so crazy,

You say that you could teach me, given time,

Your memory of summers glimmer hazy:

‘Since when is being vague and rushed a crime?’

You seep through cracks with treacled words and varnish,

You temper barbs with little bits of verse.

Not sure. Is it my thoughts you seek to tarnish?

Or do you think your wounds are much, much worse?

Just like a pensioned horse, when this is over,

I want to pick a shady field to hide,

Be put to graze in four-leaved clover,

Lay saddle, bridle to distant side.

And, from your perch of plenty, safety, height,

You’ll watch my frolics, joy and sunshine bright.