N J Griffiths

Tag: love poetry

  • Vermilion


    Raw amnesia like mornings,

    like pillows, your hair falling,

    spilling into weeks. 

    Can you see the words 

    I leave for you? A trail

    in light, likeness in the linseed,

    vermilion in turpentine. I close 

    the windows. Watch my hands

    pluck memory from carpet strands

    I stand too close, I see too much

    I ask to forget and then – 

     – morning again – clear

    and wretched

    and almost beyond thought.

    © Nia Jane Griffiths 2024

  • Update & Substack Link

    Hello to all those of you that frequent this blog and read the words I leave behind. I am gearing up to something at the moment, which I hope will be published in the next year. Until then, I will be posting here and on my Substack.

    All my love,

    Nia

  • Sea Bed

    I float above the sea
    you fled, I watch the waves,
    I bend to catch what’s left.
    I break. It doesn’t matter.

    I’m holding it inside my lungs
    I try to slow down, move
    only when I need to.
    I don’t. It doesn’t matter.

    Maybe this is power.
    I half believe that.
    I wanted to drown in you.
    If I did, it doesn’t matter.

    © All rights reserved. Nia Griffiths 2022.