By Elaine Bowden
Days lose their place, their flavour, number-name;
Geography-unleavened history;
Thought chasing thought, imagination lame;
The hope new stories written, old re-read;
Our nascent gentleness allowed to thrive;
That words ill-uttered might remain unsaid.
Elaine Bowden: ‘Although I have struggled a little to write poetry during lockdown, your prompt ‘List 3 Things’ really helped to get me started with the process. Thank you!’
Elaine Bowden was born in Calverton, north of Nottingham and has been writing poems since she was a small child. Elaine works as an administrator at Nottingham Trent University