Crock by Stephen Kingsnorth

Stephen Kingsnorth | Jul 22nd, 2022 | poetry | No Comments


There is no useless beauty,
or even wasted shame;
oil and water mix when whisked,
emulsified, so fixed.
We prefer separation,
yet good and evil, twixt,
are joined in every spirit,
a battle from within.
But which will gain the upper hand,
where colours merge, stand out,
and will we face the portrait,
or choose landscape instead?
It’s promised in the rainbow,
where sun needs rain to lift;
the crock of gold illusive,
as choice remains intact.

Poet Bio

Stephen Kingsnorth (Cambridge M.A., English & Religious Studies), retired to Wales from ministry in the Methodist Church due to Parkinson’s Disease, has had pieces published by on-line poetry sites, printed journals and anthologies, including Poetry Potion.
His blog is at

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