Poetry

Valerie Morton

Photo From The Promenade

They’re holding hands, strolling
along the seafront at New Brighton –
she in her silver-buckled shoes,
black and white dress
and becoming gloves.

Her hair is waved,
pinned into a roll at the back.

They’ve no idea they’ll be parents,
that I’ll never know them this way –
he in his trilby, she with eyes shining
like the silver in those shoes
that barely touch the ground.

 

Valerie is the author of two poetry collections – Mango Tree (2013) and Handprints (2015) – both published by Indigo Dreams Publishing. Her poems have appeared in a variety of magazines and anthologies. She is the publisher of Elephant (A Poetry of Elephants) edited by Rebecca Gethin). Since 2017 she has been Poet in Residence at a Hertfordshire Pinetum.

 

 

4 thoughts on “Valerie Morton”

  1. I love old photographs, especially ones of relatives I’ve never met. I have one of my great-great-grandad James Humble in his Sunday best and in his eyes I see my dad and my son. Strangely comforting … can’t wait for a time machine to be invented so I can pop back and have a good natter with him.
    JH 🙂
    P.S. great poem Valerie.

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  2. Thanks you Jonathan – if you find that time machine let me know 🙂 I too love old photographs, their sense of history – I agree it is comforting – maybe because it makes you feel more than just you. Thanks for commenting. V

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