Monday, 15 February 2021

Three Poems by Adele Ogier Jones

 



Yao Wu

 

The painting has moved so many

times across years

hidden in books and papers stored

overlooked until this time

of recollection and consideration,

a Chinese junk between

gorges at sunset

hand done by the one

who inscribed it, called me

dear and used my name

 

The painting moves me now

as it never has before

deep waters multi-greened

golden highlights from a sun

soon setting, far into the scene

dimensions starkly felt

the paint, the view

his simple words, handwriting

more art than characters, below a name

this New Year’s day, an artist lad.


 

Iron flowers from Anhui

 

Iron flowers spread

across white snow

framed in black

with black signature to match

formed twisting round

branches

bursting with buds near

pine nuts left from last season

overlooked

by that certain monkey who

knows where to find them

hidden on boughs

forgotten on mountains

where iron flowers

bloom

rich for depicting

on this traditional frame

your gift

Wuhu’s beauty

treasured.



Blue silk with double happiness

 

Double happiness woven

white within silk

sky blue pale as

a far horizon

fades

 

single gossamer threads

silk near transparent

held to light

palest shadows

softest hue

 

waning into distant shades

at noon each day

where a middle

kingdom proved

good luck

 

with double happiness

calligraphy and porcelain

a gift of silk scrolled

waiting

for a poem.

 




Writing creatively as Ogiér Jones, Adèle calls Freiburg i. Br. and Melbourne home. Professional writing is published under her name Adele M.E. Jones. Her latest collection of poems Counting the Chiperoni is published by Ginninderra Press (2019) along with her latest chapbook Bonhommes (Ginninderra Press, 2020) written for the artwork of Moroccan artist Aziz Kibari. She appears in numerous anthologies and has been shortlisted and awarded in poetry competitions. These three poems were written for Lunar New Year 2021 and, like much of her poetry, comes out of her international and intercultural work.



No comments:

Post a Comment

Three Poems by John Patrick Robbins

  You're Just Old So you cling to anything that doesn't remind you of the truth of a chapter's close or setting sun. The comfort...