Peachy's Poetry

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on July 18, 2017

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Ash grey face wears wrinkles
Scars of ingratitude and barbs
Slumped shoulders, leaky vessel
Draining love, hope & contentment

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A Garden Shed (by Sophie Peach)

A garden shed a garden shed My head is like a garden shed It’s full of junk and flower pots Welly -boots and who knows what No really though my head is crammed You can’t get in the door is jammed With things I’ve seen, things I’ve said Things I’ve done and things I’ve read Plus everything I’ve thought about If I were you I’d just keep out!

Publication of Man Up

I am delighted to announce that my first poetry book Man Up is now available on Amazon . This is the result of a good deal of soul searching and the process has been very cathartic. All of the pieces that are in the book have now been removed from this blog, but I hope you will buy a copy to help me to fund my second poetry book which will benefit from the lessons that I learned in compiling this one.

Wisdom

Captives in a bubble. Insulated from the wider world and refusing to acknowledge anything that doesn't conform to our own rigid frame of reference and scope of experience. The unopened book, the blog article we bookmarked two years ago, the tale told by an elderly relative; tale and relative long-since forgotten. We look, but we don't see. We hear, but we don't listen. We seek, we find, we discard, we regret. For the lack of an upturned ear, a snippet of genius unacknowledged or a companion's generous advice ignored we may never experience that eureka moment that may change our lives forever.

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