Author Archives: Howard Benn

It is morning grey, Then the great white diamond rises in the east, Splintering the light. Now I see a garden full of gems. From the pots, burning rubies overflow, Spilling to the ground. Tiny sapphires scatter the lawn. Amber … Continue reading →

Bless the blackbird. All is held in stasis When she sings. Her song clears out The splintered thoughts. She does not rest Where the gardeners Have humanized their hedges; No straight lines in her voice, Geometry is not in her … Continue reading →

Is this really the house? Number Eighteen, it says on the door. Has the house shrunk in the rain, like wool? Or have I grown too big, Like Alice, drinking and eating Till my head won’t fit through the door? … Continue reading →

COME BACK Sometimes I wonder, Where is Halley’s Comet now? And who is she with? CATERPILLAR The caterpillar looks up to the sky And thinks: Why can’t I be a butterfly? Howard Benn

It begins, as always, with the wings of a bat. The rest I tailor for you. A phial of shine from Sun. A drop of fresh dew, Taken from white petal Of daisy or rose, So mornings are new. For … Continue reading →

I catch glimpses of it here and there; The sea plays peek-a-boo between the hills. When I climb a brow, full blueness sets in, So wide, its curved surface seems Straight as a taut string. From afar, the sea is … Continue reading →