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Best Poems Written by Lisa Winship

Below are the all-time best Lisa Winship poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Lisa Winship Poem

You

I remember when I first saw you. Do you? 
Stood at the window in the sun, all white light and soft edges. Your hands in your pockets. 
You stood as if ready to take on the world. Do you remember? It all lay before you.
The world was waiting for you. 
I was carried closer to your face and I knew you then, pulling in close. Close enough to see. 
Those tiny fires dancing in your pupils. Warm eyes, I remember clear as day. 
I could see right into your soul, did you know that? Through the fire. Into the depths of you. 

Shall I tell you what your soul feels like? 
A blanket on a chill evening. The first Spring thaw following February’s icy grip. 
The slow drift into a soft sleep. 
Your soul is maple in my palms. 

I saw it all then, do you see? I saw the future. What should become of me and I was sure. 
Did you feel it? That string between us like Jane and Rochester, that deep ache. 
I needed to pull in closer to your world, the world of glass and pockets. You needed to find 

me. 

I remember when I first saw you. Do you?

Details | Lisa Winship Poem

Selene and Endymion

He slumbers,
resting on grass soft as down, 
in eternal sleep’s soft bondage.
As Sun pulls up his weary horses,
gold-flecked manes toss
shimmering dew drops to cling to rose flesh
a coat of silver as the day rests. 
Underneath Night’s shroud, he now lies,
a vision unseen but for one
who sits on moon’s cradle,
to sigh
and warm in Night’s chill splendour.
She gazes upon the downed bed,
for here her eyes will forever rest 
aching and adoring 
upon fair Endymion’s eternal face.

Details | Lisa Winship Poem

In Minster Lovell Hall

Did knocks and scrapes of knives and tools
In blistered fingers of blundering fools
Awaken something in the hidden room 
That until then, had slept entombed 
In Minster Lovell Hall?

For when the dust had moved away 
Like curtains parting from night to day 
And rock was crushed deep into clay 
The room revealed its secret prey 
To the vultures of the Hall.

As they stood with sweat on their skin 
The terrible sadness revealed within 
Set the steady hearts into a crashing spin 
And a silence descended, settling thin 
Among Minster Lovell Hall. 

There he appeared to the weary worked men 
Sat with his papers held down by his pen 
His bones draped in dust of a century there spent 
Waiting for the doors to pull back once again 

He waited and waited til brought back to dust 
To crumble before a world still unjust 
In Minster Lovell Hall.

Details | Lisa Winship Poem

Diane's Reflections

We found ourselves in the caverns of the nave, one day 
sheltering from the sun, a time to recede into holy shadow 
and bask in baked walls, their white, homely dust 
settling about our footprints.
In fatigue, my Diane sits heavy on the pew with head bowed 
from heat or in prayer? I stand and take her in, 
the touch of buttercup in calm endurance of years and years
she seeks some answer at her feet.
It felt to me that moments in our days together 
should not be left in dust, such as those in this cavern
so, to frame our memories I committed her to lens 
and captured her,
the sweet intimacy she shares 
with both nave and husband, my sweet Diane.
And yet, it appears, this moment shares a life, absent from us.
As we gathered in the still of the evening, home again
to recollect and add the moment to the collection 
sitting on our shelf of memories 
we gazed upon the picture of Diane, in her stillness, reposed
and alone, we thought
yet there she sat, in the white glow of some unearthly light 
our very own ghostly companion, she sat with Diane to reflect
upon some moments of her own long past, and we like to think 
that in her long expressions in the cavernous nave, 
sat on the pew in dreams, in white 
my own Diane will grace her thoughts and be part of 
her tapestry.