FROGMORE POETRY PRIZE 2011
She is dumb as any metal
locked and fastened down with all the words
she knows she used to know.
Words fat as honey-bees with golden pollen
bee-hived in her brain.
Words from beyond the world of heavy plate.
Words she loved.
Words she had for all the green spaces:
leas and glades, rills and birch woods.
She wants to say, she saw this morning:
black tulips – their bullet heads bending
low, low to the paved terrace;
giving up their weight of petals.
to Adjudicators Report