Peace-Lily

In one corner of my bedroom
a peace-lily’s flower has been
growing perfectly perpendicular
for weeks;
and has now nudged up its head,
shyly showing the tiny,
alabaster-white beads
of its opening flower,
and sighs.
 
What else can I be but peaceful?

Nikki Bennett

in collection, Love Shines Beyond Grief, 2009, Poetry Spring,
ISBN 978-1-907035-07-4

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Heartstrings

Strings of all sorts,
in that old blue bag,
his mother kept –
for use sometime.
 
Thin strings for puddings
and thick strings for parcels,
or to mend the
old washing line.
 
Strings of all sorts
come into his life,
taut or slack,
for keeping in place.
 
Twine for the garden,
thread for machines
and to fly that
magnificent kite.
 
Blood ties, purse strings,
hidden away,
hers are unseen
for holding on tight.
 
Strings from her apron,
Strings from her heart,
How can he cut them?
– the scissors don’t work.

Nikki Bennett

in collection, The Places We’re Touched, 2005/2009(3rd ed),
Poetry Spring, ISBN 978-1-907035-07-4

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Tiniest Tendril of Light

The tiniest tendril of light
fingered its way
across the sandstone rooftops,
filled the window
with its brazen fire,
and you stood naked,
a T-bag in each hand,
milk and sugar waiting.
 
The faintest breath of life
nuzzled its way
across the slumber-down pillow,
filled the bedroom
with its morning light,
and I slept naked,
a glove in each hand,
love and longing waiting.

Nikki Bennett

in collection, The Pebble Collection, 2004/2009(2nd ed),
Poetry Spring, ISBN 978-1-90735-01-2

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Dancing Naked

When I hear your name
I see your surgeon’s hands
cutting the heart of a lettuce,
fixing wooden strips
on a model boat.
 
When I hear your name
I hear soft laughter
when you talked about
your sleep patterns,
Edith Piaf’s ‘La Vie en Rose’.
 
When I hear your name
I feel the way you massaged
the knots out of my shoulders,
held me close, dancing
naked in the living room.
 
When I hear your name
I sense the whisper of your breath
on my neck, fingers that
caressed my inner thigh
just before sleeping.
 
When I hear your name
I taste the Parisian warm red wine
and the salty wetness
in your farewell Pernod kiss,
at the station.

Nikki Bennett

in collection, Love Poems, 2002/2009(2nd ed),
Poetry Spring, ISBN 978-1-907035-03-6

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