2 poems by Rachel Piercey

    Lovely face

    But Lancelot mused a little space;

    He said, “She has a lovely face…”

    Take me don’t take me

    to the river for her wet cloak

    I am lustful I am deadcold

    for that greened boat

    Be high colour be the shadows

    in the mirror

    In this cloak men throw their cloaks

    across the water

    O lover to be my lover

    soak up the river

    You may need to need the warm cloaks

    of my sisters

    So the banks

    hold dark wet carmine dark wet lapis

    And where and wearing whose

    should we be happiest

    Your yellow hair

    ‘For Anne Gregory’/ ‘Goblin Market’

    Great and golden at your ears!

    One curl fresh on its mother-twig

    sends the young men into sweet despair.

    You know the texts – they all declare

    that mornings pass. So skurry, dew-maid,

    fill your mouth while fruit is there.

    The weather always cools, my dear.

    Soon your curls are emptied rinds

    and only God could want your skull.


    Rachel Piercey is a poet, editor and tutor for adults and children. Her third pamphlet, Disappointing Alice, was recently published by HappenStance; she also has two pamphlets with the Emma Press. Rachel’s poems have appeared in magazines including The Rialto, The Interpreter’s House, Butcher's Dog, Magma and The Poetry Review. rachelpierceypoet.com