Old Year


They cut through the hillside revealing the light.They found me with my coat sleeves fraying in soft threads. Velvet eyed in the twilight, as stunned a moonstruck doe!
With the door hanging on its hinges as though it no longer fitted its frame.
I asked you where you were going; you turned slightly but I could only see the hill beyond, gleaming as if it would take you forever.
I have your hair wrapped round my finger that will not let me marry.
The moon clock is never telling the right time now. I sift the leaf mould with this little gold sieve; trying to augur the crystals, the worms and the stones, the telling of what happens now…


Words and photograph by Veronica Aldous  2016 all rights reserved


Trees take us to the Light


Engorged with cold light

Gulping the days


The cold


World of roots and biting


Its own stranger.


Veronica Aldous 2016 All rights reserved


Blue Coffee at Solstice



Blue Coffee at Solstice

Solstice runs its tongue along the horizon
Tasting the iron and salt in the forest’s edge
Light creeps round the tower’s clock
Showing the shattered side
As well as the perfect profile.

Animals run gravely past the slatted trees
Speaking with voices they found
Under the granite pavements:
Fox  duppies and bird eidolons
Cavort and snap in deep mists
Their eyes glint with a beautiful lust.

I watch a painted screen of doubtful shoppers
Dreaming of the king’s black horse
Kicking in his  rotted trappings he rises
Whickering  steam in the frozen air
Breaking the violent earth of the hill.

Veronica Aldous 2016 all rights reserved




Harbours are where we hide our eyes
A  mutual love of grey green sea
Legs stretched out, brick wall behind
We survey the differences
How your hands seem less sure
How  some silence is an alembic
I weigh up a resentful solitary boat
Rusting on its moorings
A forgotten oar left rotting
You are looking at your beer
It’s shining
The gods have sent  you some fire –
I am hurting
Tide slaps the pulleys
You hurt more
I feel yours more than mine

Yearning to watch you sleep.

VeronicaAldous 2016 all rights reserved



Midnight sulked in its chamber, watching the witchlights

Out on the bay, strands of  unborn thoughts
Flaring and dying as we all do.
He saw a comet some days before
The arc of it scored the sky; as if it remembered
Something he regretted, green as velvet
Soaked in oak moss, sullen as silver
Chrism of this earth.

If this is living, how is it so easy
To scry the other world?
Wrapped in laurel
Soaked in myrrh
Bitter as oud.

I sniff at the colours
Flowering mercilessly.

My hands clasp brushes, pens
It is a good embrace.

Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2016

Cate’s Lipstick


This is from my book Mortal which is available on Amazon

Cate’s Lipstick


Cate Blanchett is incandescing, having a red lipstick moment

She dissembles, is caught out, winces.

Her phone rings twice, and the camera pans to the low table

Some deep hues emerge there which foretell her downfall.

What should she do? There is light on a wall in strange patterns,

I don’t like the look of her blouse, too racy, too blue.

Her teeth probably ache. I know she’s acting, but does she feel

Culpable for this sad moon, this set of frames

This way we all respond? So we breathe in the lit-up air,

Remember some relative time, some infidelity

Or judgement to be made. The window is white:

In the shed there lingers some forgotten doll

Sitting waist high in a tin tub, tiny tears with drilled in holes

Peeing and crying. I am looking from far away,

At Cate from outer space, I am the lunar shift

Peering at dreams. The sprockets tear

The film flips and flaps, the audience groans

As though Cate has dropped through time –

Damn! I like her lipstick – that kiss-off colour!




Veronica Aldous