Poem introduction

This is a short poem based on a kind of reverent greed. The poem is called Honeycomb.

Honeycomb

It is too beautiful to eat.
Knife crumbles it from gold to dark.
Our keenest edge cannot stay sharp
while in our walls, which seemed so strong,
damp murmurs with the evening sleet.
I wonder if I live too long

but then I taste the honeycomb,
its waxen white upon my teeth,
its liquid sun which hides beneath.
Small deities, of wind or moon,
behold me.  In my shabby room
I am a god.  I lick the spoon.

 


unpublished poem, © Alison Brackenbury 2013, used by permission of the author

Recordings

Alison Brackenbury

Alison Brackenbury Downloads

1Honeycomb

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2Lapwings

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3On The Aerial

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4At The Beginning

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5Provision

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6After the X-ray

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7At Eighty

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8Dickens - A Daydream

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9In The Black Country

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10Overnight

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12No

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12Rented Rooms

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13The Beanfields Scent

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14Linum

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15The Spring at Chedworth

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16Edward Thomas’ Daughter

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17Xerxes, an Opera

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18Yesterday Vivaldi visited me, and sold me some very expensive concerto’s

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19Prepositions

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20Display

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21After Beethoven

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22Puff

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23Epigrams

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24The Nymph Considers the Garden

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25The Trent Rises, 1947

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26Bookkeeping

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27On the Move

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28Money

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30Apple Country

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31Robert Brackenbury

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32High Notes

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33Hill Mist

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34Three

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35Christmas Roses

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36December 25th, 12 noon

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37Bath Cubes

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38The Blue Door

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39At Needlehole

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40Tewkesbury

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41Flood

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42Scraper

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43Wilfred Owen at the Advanced Horse Transport Depot, 1917

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44On The Boards

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29The House

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Books by Alison Brackenbury