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Literature, PoetryJune 23, 2015

Sherlock Holmes in Red Cross Garden

 Roses, by Amy Dale

Roses, by Amy Dale

May, and the green smell after rain. He’s smoking,
brooding, watching the weary folk of Southwark.
He’s scanning the book of flowers

with his mind’s eye. What a lovely thing
a rose is
, he thinks, but they will not bloom
for weeks. Now there’s the pink of thrift,

silver leaves of snow-in-summer. Flowers
are the chemistry of light. Wisteria
crawls on the pergola, and his thoughts crawl

with the tangled threads of this stillness.
Typists’ fingers and the shoes of the poor
flicker past, and the women keep

their unreadable faces turned away.
Motives are like the changing code
of the sundial
. There is an immortal spark

in the tired eyes of sad Southwark,
but these are not clients, and they won’t sit still
or submit to his scrutiny. Holmes? Holmes!

Are you all right? and Watson is by his side,
Watson who sees more than most realise,
himself included. Sun drifts down

on the Red Cross Garden, May sunlight
after rain. The pathways twist with delight.
There is a cab waiting, lives they must meet

in the city streets. They still have time
before he greets the man in the shadows
and there’s a little less light in London.
~ Clarissa Aykroyd

Clarissa Aykroyd grew up in Victoria, Canada and now lives in London, England. Her work has appeared in Shot Glass Journal, And Other Poems and Ink Sweat & Tears, and in anthologies. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee. You can read her blog about poetry and poets at http://thestoneandthestar.blogspot.co.uk/

 

The poet wishes to thank the Poetry School, London Parks & Gardens Trust and Bankside Open Spaces Trust for their support. 

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One last love letter...

April 24, 2021

It has taken us some time and patience to come to this decision. TMS would not have seen the success that it did without our readers and the tireless team that ran the magazine for the better part of eight years.

But… all good things must come to an end, especially when we look at the ever-expanding art and literary landscape in Pakistan, the country of the magazine’s birth.

We are amazed and proud of what the next generation of creators are working with, the themes they are featuring, and their inclusivity in the diversity of voices they are publishing. When TMS began, this was the world we envisioned…

Though the magazine has closed and our submissions shuttered, this website will remain open for the foreseeable future as an archive of the great work we published and the astounding collection of diverse voices we were privileged to feature.

If, however, someone is interested in picking up the baton, please email Maryam Piracha, the editor, at maryamp@themissingslate.com.

Farewell, fam! It’s been quite a ride.

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