Nona's Poetry Corner

Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry. (W.B. Yeats) Here lies that which is inside no more, that which burns my mind and must be expelled. Here lies the greatest of all inventions. Here lies words.

Monday, November 30, 2020

A Letter to Myself

30/11/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation If I wrote a letter to myself From me as I am now With all the knowledge that 40 years brings To my te...

The Lonely Goth: A Villanelle

29/11/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation Were I not quite so alone I might enjoy this solitude But that is all I have ever known I might let...

The Salesman

28/11/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation I don’t know what you were selling As you came up the driveway today You didn’t make it to the door Be...

Quiet: A Sestina

27/11/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation Do you hear the silence? It surrounds me with tranquillity The lull is more than peaceful Its embrace...

Thanksgiving

26/11/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation I give thanks that I’m not American Living in the land of the free Where people are anything but And t...

Sunday, November 29, 2020

River: a ballade with double refrain

25/11/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation We sat by the fast-flowing river You, me, and mum and dad All nervous and a-quiver Waiting for fun to ...

Monday, November 23, 2020

The Angry Man

24/11/2020 – Poem a Day Compilation There’s an angry, angry man Sitting in a house He doesn’t even own And definitely doesn’t deserve He...

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Nona Rose

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