Our Members‎ > ‎

Christopher Allan

 
Recently retired from the NHS where he'd worked as a podiatrist.I hope to concentrate now on poetry and playing petanque. Published in many magazines and anthologies since 1994 including: The Rialto, Other Poetry, Fire, Smith's Knoll and South.Prize winner at Ledbury festival and the Bedford open competition.Interested in American poetry and the Irish and Welsh scene.Also interested in the imagist movement 1910 -- 1930.



Favourite poets would be a very long list indeed,but a few examples would include:  Ted Kooser, Mark Roper,Gillian Clarke, Esther Morgan and Lisa Dart.

  
Paper Apples

Through blinds, a seep of milky light
painted the dawn in thin stripes
across the folds of a sleeping man.


An artistic effect achieved
each morning, even as the growl
of the first truck unlocked the day.


And that row of paper apples  - 
whose bough was a thread
a finger-pull could floor   -

would slowly green-up again
to selves no crayon-red could ripen.

In that cold bed, how he longed 
for sleep to shoulder him back
to a dream of sweet apples
and the candour of love.


And so pale to him then
those fifteen apples were   -
and no birdsong to merry the air
or leaves whispering like rain...

And frail and twisted too,  that last morning,
each one, heart-shaped and bereft.

Once, on a moon-laden night,
he mistook them for pearls
in their dusky, silver jackets.


As he blinked awake, they shone 
an unfamiliar constellation
stretched above his two- bar fire.


Then daylight's tide undid the lie   -
no ripeness rested there, nor treasure held, 
neither would love assuage despair.