Guest Poem by John Arnold

John Arnold lives in Suffolk, and is a retired town planner. His poems have been widely published in literary magazines and anthologies, and broadcast on BBC Radio.


My sock, turned inside out
among the laundry –
woolly pile, soft to touch.

So this is what my feet see,
feel, as they walk my ways;
then, pressure off, relax as I sit:

nothing to concern them,
no worries over money or relationships;
cocooned from a harsh cold world.

They meet at shower time,
and at night pop out together
from the duvet, breathe in cool air.

Next day, alone again, reflecting
on times spent with their partner –
lovingly, in silent contemplation.