If the sea you have, by Britta Benson

Here’s a poem in three haiku I have written for my husband, a seasoned sailor. If the see you have If the sea you have, a gushing feast, rollicking, unruly and swift, a hiss, cold salt froth, ease and rush over darkness, with sultry cackles, if the sea you have, rocking, rolling, all in you,Continue reading “If the sea you have, by Britta Benson”

June, by Britta Benson

June The evening sunlight enters my garden like a long lost friend, poised with wonders and offering no explanations. Only smiles go deeper. Hands clasp, souls embrace. We observe each other eye to eye, almost equals. My friend is long gone before I feel the chill in my bones, alone. Unkissed. With a longing forContinue reading “June, by Britta Benson”

If life’s a game, by Britta Benson

If life’s a game If life’s a game, then surely, it’s best discovered in play, curiously, put together like the words in a poem. Never forced into form, by hook or by crook, more suggested, a seed, watered with generosity. Endless rounds of hiding, seeking, change. Your move, a turn, a random act of love,Continue reading “If life’s a game, by Britta Benson”

Shine, by Britta Benson

I was playing around with poetry this morning, sitting in my garden. Here’s the result. A poem in three haiku. Why not? Or should the true question be: What else? Shine The dance of sunbeams: this gentle, silent battle on drawn swords of grass. Green eyes awaken, broken hearts, still sleepy, grasp dawn’s invitation. WatchedContinue reading “Shine, by Britta Benson”

Morning mist, by Britta Benson

Morning mist The morning mist strides in thick and fast, craving sly glances of my mortified soul. My neighbours have all disappeared, swallowed up whole along with their houses. The world stops a few steps into my garden. I’m set against this white grey veil, beyond lies untold mystery and fairy folk, protected by tinyContinue reading “Morning mist, by Britta Benson”

He said, she said, by Britta Benson

I’m experimenting with poetry every day, something I can only recommend as your daily pick-me-up. Far healthier than anything else on the market and also completely free. Right now, I’m fascinated with writing little stories in the shape of poems. Here’s a classic: he said, she said, but with my twist. He said, she saidContinue reading “He said, she said, by Britta Benson”

Sunset, by Britta Benson

Sunset Sunset ushers in disputes and objections. Even the birds succumb to this urge for a sweet little while until all is soothed and settled for the night. Do not hold on too hard once the world has gone quiet or try to grab a sinking sun by the scruff, squeeze life to death withContinue reading “Sunset, by Britta Benson”

Beginnings, by Britta Benson

Beginnings The morning sun rises boldly through cold doubtful clouds with the fairytale shimmer of confident curiosity. All will be well in suspended disbelief. I still rage at the night, paths lost in passing frights as we connect and fall freely into new journeys together. The generous hearts cross over to the light long beforeContinue reading “Beginnings, by Britta Benson”

Truce, by Britta Benson

Truce Cinnamon sweeps in again, almost unnoticed, on a rainy day in May. A life well lived in swirls. The whirlwinds of lost journeys seep into my hungry soul. All yours, for now, all mine, forever. This truth be told, be gentle in your rage and cancel fate. We curl up on our window sills,Continue reading “Truce, by Britta Benson”

She dare not complain, by Britta Benson

She dare not complain She dare not complain, her lungs not playing, she’s counting seconds, counting gaps, but this air has gone through too many bodies, dead and stale and she cannot breathe, not even quietly. Blossoms fall to the ground in a belligerent grump. How come they are allowed to make so much noise?Continue reading “She dare not complain, by Britta Benson”

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started