Tag: Kirsty A. Niven

Publication – The Seasons

Three of my poems have been included in ‘The Seasons: A Collection of Poetry and Prose on Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter’.

You can purchase the collection on Amazon.

For more info on this collection, see Collections of Poetry & Prose.

The poems included of mine are ‘Falling Leaf’, ‘Flowers Aren’t Always Restful To Look At’ and ‘Snowflake’.

A Walk Home

One small day condensed to the patter of rain on a hood –
and you toddling along.
A still puddle, anticipating the stomp.
A wellington poised, pink and gleaming –
to ignite a watery explosion.

Horses in the field huddle, heads bowed,
their manes flowing.
They watch as we plough on,
pure drips trickling down our faces.

You look up, suddenly, smiling.
Beatific.

The droplets kiss your sweet face,
the rain blessed to share this moment with you.

Previously appeared on Cultured Vultures as part of their Poetry Spotlight.

Lullaby for a Hairy Baby

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It rains in big fat drops, that drip and drip
and the cat tremulously purrs and purrs
as he lies in the folds of the blanket,
looking up at me with an upside down head.

His tail sways back and forth, back and forth,
a content and constant metronome ticking away.
He buries his head into me in a delicate shuffle.

Rain drops outside are dripping and dripping.

Previously published in HAPPY: A Collection of Poetry and Prose on Happiness and Being Happy, 2017. 

Publication – Koru Mag

Recently my poem ‘Sleeping Beauty’ was included in issue two of Koru Mag. You can read my poem and the rest of the issue for free here – https://issuu.com/korumag/docs/koru_mag_issue_two/21

I have also written a blog post looking into the poem, explaining my thoughts when writing it and why I thought the Sleeping Beauty fairytale was an apt intertext. See the blog here – http://korumag.anjulietepohe.com/2017/07/24/guest-post-kirsty-a-niven/ 

Nightfall

When night floats down upon this town
and tickles the roofs and steeples,
my hand begins to itch and twitch.
It sees things in the dark that eyes cannot,
images that call to only it.
A twinkling star can become a character,
a sienna streetlight a love poem,
the faint thrum of a heartbeat, the metre.
My fingers dance across the page,
leaving inky footprints trailing after.
When the lights go out and everyone sleeps,
my pen awakens.

Previously appeared on the Journeys Dundee interactive map.