Jill Abram

Jill Abram is director of Malika’s Poetry Kitchen, a collective encouraging craft, community and development. She grew up in Manchester, travelled the world and now lives in Brixton. She works in radio, specialising in making sound effects for comedy programmes. Jill regularly performs her poems in London and occasionally beyond, including at Ledbury Poetry Festival, in Paris and the USA, and she was runner up in the StAnza slam in 2017. Publications include Rialto, Under The Radar, High Window and Ink Sweat & Tears. Jill produces and presents a variety of poetry events and she created and curates the Stablemates reading series.

jillabram.co.uk

Photo: Jo Bell

Events

Jill Abram presents Stablemates »

Jill Abram introduces a poetry salon with a trio of HappenStance poets

Fri 8 March | 11:30 - 12:30 | £4.50/£3.50 | The Town Hall, Queens Gardens, Council Chamber

Breakfast at the Poetry Café: Off the Page »

Start your weekend with poetry and pastries!

Sat 9 March | 10:00 - 11:10 | £4.75/£3.75 | The Byre Theatre, Abbey Street, Studio Theatre

Poem

My Girl

Here is newborn you in tiny white cyclamen.
I wrapped you in blankets soft as Stachys leaves, clematis tendrils grip
tight as your fingers.

The colours of your hair; baby blonde carnations darkening through bronze
fennel to copper beech - your rebellious teenage phase of zinging poppies.

Pink frills of Monarda and your summer skirts, velvet pansy petals for
warmth in the winter, tough-leafed hostas for your tomboy years.

Fuchsia tutus take me to your ballet classes, Kerria pompoms to tennis
lessons, daffodils trumpet in the school orchestra.

Your cheeks blush like ripening apples, plump as the tomatoes I water every
day. Bees flit from plant to plant, you skip from friend to friend.

Your temper flares hot as flaming Crocosmia, spikes like a rose thorn. As
twilight falls you curl up with evening primrose to sleep

through the night. But I never met your father, the season to carry and bear
you passed.
I planted you around my lawn and raised you here.

 

Jill Abram