Kate Williams

This verse is part of a 4-seasoned sequence, published in the anthology, Read Me At School, Macmillan, 2009:

The Trees Behind the Teachers’ Cars
(Autumn Term)

Behind the cars the trees have turned to treasure –
red as rubies, gold as gold bars.

If Sir was a pirate
he’d be cramming his boot with booty,
except that it’s really just leaves, of course,
gone bizarre.

November seaside

Ever tried the sea in November?
You’d remember:
it’s grim.

Grey as iron,
and hard as iron to lie on –
a great iron wedge.
You wouldn’t want to swim.
The chill would drill your toes,
just standing at the edge.

Ever tried it in December?
Loud as a lion,
high as a ledge,
sharp as shark-teeth through your shoe?

I’ll leave that one to you.

Sleeping Willow

Statue
riding the rolling sky,
still as a swan on a lake,
buds deep-chilled
till time comes to wake.

While Gales Push

Beneath the bush
lies a lump of a toad,
slumped in slumber,
safely stowed
in leaf-gold skin
and leaf-mould shawl,
as the gusts begin
and the cold rains fall.

While gales push
and water streams,
the toad in his bush stump
dreams.

And for fun after Christmas, in dark, murky January – the release of
Squeak! Squawk! Roar! (Otter-Barry Books) – Jan. 9th!

The animals within are getting decidedly fidgety!

Available to pre-order now!


Happy November poetry times!

Kate