Saturday, 23 May 2015


PORTRAIT ….  Maureen Clifford © The Scribbly Bark Poet

He had tried mixing the colours, but they weren't right.
The blues weren't blue enough, the greens were too yellow,
He was restless. Change did that to him.
Someone once described him as ' Averse to change'.

Maybe the cracks in the wall were starting to show.
It's hard to be a perfectionist - all of the time.
Was it the new moon or the full moon that bought the crazies out?
He couldn't remember - and did it really matter?

He looked once again at the photo he had snapped.
The colours pristine and sharp almost ephemeral
Magic the way the light captured her beauty

Already she had changed.  Beauty at best is transitory.


The portrait is  one by my Great Uncle Sir Luke Fildes - a renowned Victorian era painter  who  to the best of my knowledge was certainly not crazy.  He painted Kings and Queens, has many works hanging in Buckingham Palace and art galleries around the world and created illustrations for Charles Dicken's last book The Mystery of Edwin Drood.


Maureen Clifford © The Scribbly Bark Poet

The ebony and ivory keys glinted dully
in the reflected light from the skylight overhead,
despite their layer of attic dust.

It felt cold up here – far colder than the day warranted.
The keys felt cold to the touch – the tinkling notes
fell like shards of fractured glass .

The drop in temperature increased – It had to be you.
Nobody else I knew could play a Chopin nocturne
with such lyricism and delicacy – B major I believe.

I whipped my head around to catch a glimpse of you
so fleeting and just as I remembered you last.
Pale, intense, flicking black hair from your eyes,
impatient to be gone – and now you were.


The photograph is one taken by a friend Ross Beckley - you can find more of Ro'ss's great work on his link -

Monday, 11 May 2015