poet & painter



A collaboration of poetry and photography (photographs by John Stoddart).


A Flower In A Dark Room


A flower in a dark room,
Its charms ensnared by graceless gloom,
Barred by the blindfold of emptiness,
its beauty to compare,
For darkness knows not dimension, or gauge,
or rule or judgement to refer,
Servant to the shutters bolted, captive to
the curtains drawn,
Denied the truth of its existence, it awaits
the succour of the morn,
Buoyed by the glow from a passing lantern beaming
through cracks in the nailed up door,
Borne by a band of cold assassins,shuffling
serpent like along the condemned corridor,
The glow retreats soon fades then passes as
do all things made of clay,
In this lonely unlit silence the ascending Angel
hope holds sway,
A whisper in the wilderness from the darkest
corner there,
With draw  the curtains strike the shutters on the third
day let the light the truth lay bare,
Behold the flower in all its glory host to the
splendour of its soul,
At its side where once was a whisper, the beauteous head of

a blood red rose, floating in a bowl.


J. Armstrong

A collaboration of poetry and photography (photographs by John Stoddart).

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