Tuesday, 22 January 2013



The space between
and all around
is more than substance
that we shrink until it
needs a name for
what cannot be seen
by human eye.

Sticking together,
it makes

And yet,
 it is not
what it seems.

The bed I lie in
bears my weight,
and floats upon a bubble earth
that spins its path
towards our star.

And the space between
and all around
is still greater than
the planets and the
stars that swirl
and cluster, too far
for human minds
to know.

And yet,
 they are not
what they seem.

We spend a lifetime
wandering, across the
spaces between
and all around,
inside and beyond,
dreaming old dreams
that circle in the
sparking human brain.
And in the spaces,
the spaces
where we wander,
lost and looking for a

And finally, 
it is
not what it seems.

For if it were, there
would be no spaces
between and all around.

And then,
where would we


  1. This is beautiful Bev, and very thoughtful. I never knew you wrote poetry as well. Brilliant.

  2. Thanks Peter. I do love writing poetry. I have about thirty on my computer, I suppose and quite a few back in England in various nooks and crannies. I'll post another one especially for you, after the promo.

  3. Another beautiful poem, Bev - poignant, thoughtful and thought-provoking. I love the way you use rather prosaic 'unpoetic' language, the strength being in the rhythm and structure,with such underlying depths of meaning. 'That tortuous wrangling of dissatisfactions' - I love that. Dig them out of those nooks and crannies and lets see them!