Our poet today Alwyn Marriage reveals treasures that, rather than being buried, can never be enumerated: and it is Day 666 of the daily poems. Not everything can be counted I start to count,then realisethere are many treasures thatcan never be enumerated:the tiny flowers of the moorthat even in fearsome weatheremerge from stone or swardto… Continue reading

Blue crystal, dug from the earth – definitely Buried Treasure – admired by our poet Colin Pink in this triadic.  It’s Day 665 of the daily poems. Blue crystal You were dug out of the earth, where you layfor millions of years; but I bought you from a shop in Bexhill-on-Sea.  Someone sliced you through so… Continue reading

Buried Treasure?  And how!  In 1942, ploughboy Gordon Butcher was working a field at West Row, near Mildenhall in Suffolk, when the plough turned over an immensely valuable hoard of Roman silver tableware from the fourth century AD.  Our poet Fiona Clark says “This owes not a little to my vague memory of Roald Dahl’s… Continue reading

This harvest, described today (Day 663 of the daily poems) by our poet Colin Hopkirk – well, it just has to be Buried Treasure, doesn’t it?  And we can’t plough it back … Harvesting Today we harvestedhorseshoesbig as side-platesfists of limestoneshards of tileblue and white crockerythe bone handleof an old eating kniferusted bedspringsa tortoiseshell barretteand… Continue reading

It is Day 662 of the daily poems.  Our poet Eithne Cullen finds some silver – Buried Treasure or part of the bio-balance of the earth? Silverfish The walls are Farrow and Ballthe floor engineered like planks of pinethe light comes via a sensorbut you, tiny, wingless creature,fish-insect with papery grey skin,don’t set the sensors… Continue reading