This month’s poem, Patinage, is another piece of writing included in “Off the Wall” – the group’s anthology published last year and still available from Somewhere Else Café Bar at 65 Castle Street.
Linda Dyson has led a varied life in several countries and has been writing since she was seven years old, when she composed her first poem – about hollyhocks – and by the age of nine she wrote the beginning of a novel in an exercise book. She says she hasn’t stopped writing ever since!
It may be warm this month, but Linda’s poem will transport you to the cool of the ice skating rink, and we hope you will find the descriptions it presents will fill your mind’s eye with refreshing and graceful images as we look forward to an English summer.
You can read more work from Linda and the rest of the group at somewhere-else-writers.org.
Patinage
A fragile girl
In frail attire,
Escorted by her prince,
Steps out upon a chilly sea of glass,
Transformed from human
Into airborne mayfly
At a glance.
And as the music swells
They swirl and glide
Like magic
On a silver thread of steel
No longer man and girl
But butterflies entranced
Swooping, spinning, twirling
In heart-stopping traceries
Of acrobatic flight,
Defying gravity,
Balanced on one blade
At agonising speed.
And then he throws her
Like gossamer
Spinning threefold –
Impossible, it seems,
Yet artful in extreme.
Without a blink,
She lands one footed,
Still sailing on,
Unbroken thread
Of motion…
And what, I wonder,
What impossibilities
Would she dream that night?
And then, triumphant pose,
Hands held aloft, it ends,
And, gliding swans transformed,
They waddle on dry land
A fragile girl
In frail attire,
Escorted by her prince,
Steps out upon a chilly sea of glass,
Transformed from human
Into airborne mayfly
At a glance.
And as the music swells
They swirl and glide
Like magic
On a silver thread of steel
No longer man and girl
But butterflies entranced
Swooping, spinning, twirling
In heart-stopping traceries
Of acrobatic flight,
Defying gravity,
Balanced on one blade
At agonising speed.
And then he throws her
Like gossamer
Spinning threefold –
Impossible, it seems,
Yet artful in extreme.
Without a blink,
She lands one footed,
Still sailing on,
Unbroken thread
Of motion…
And what, I wonder,
What impossibilities
Would she dream that night?
And then, triumphant pose,
Hands held aloft, it ends,
And, gliding swans transformed,
They waddle on dry land
Don’t forget that as well as being able to read Patinage at cirenscene.com there’s even more at somewhere-else-writers.org
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