Her Charming Syllables by Daniel Ridley


You can’t always start a new novel.

There is only a heart.


Worry, worry

I worried into a kiss

but look at us.

In all seriousness, this is rather good honey.


Strange and delirious,

untroubled for seconds;

both inappropriately ordered.


You had such a presence,

I could hardly look up.

You had such a presence,

I became bashful and relied on reticence.


There is a limited amount of time

in which to devote your life to sorrow.

I was tipsy but I remember.


I was tipsy:

April was outrageous.


Luminosity in a swept-left fringe,

I saw a fragment of a moment,

and held my drink with a limp wrist.


You stood making marionette impressions.

I caught your hair with my lips,

the day had taken ages.


I fought past your prologue,

and talked to you about the Beatitudes.


Previous nights were just dismal solutions

to the malaise of modern life

I only wanted a wife.


Of course,

retain your second name.

Protocol is guff.


There’s now nothing without you.


I’m fretting dear,

which means I love you.



Artwork by: Remouse AKA Russell Mountford

About this piece: ‘The poem came from an immersion in Keats and I suppose is about being desperately unhappy until a chanced encounter frees you from what you previously thought wouldn’t ever end. It is dedicated to Harriet.’ Daniel Ridley.

About Daniel: He’s a third year English Literature student. He would love at some stage to own two bookshops, one in Paris and one in Rome and spend half a year at one and half a year at the other.

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