I am November:
ghosts at my shoulder
on my bare branches
love falls off
like leaves to make a rich bed
in the quiet of the forest where animals
are listening.
I am November:
The eleventh hour –
still I want the touch of cloth
against my cheek
to tug a fellow’s hair
to cast my spell
to ride with a host of angels
into heaven out of hell.
Let me feel the love I ever had
from all the living and the dead
who picked me up
and put me down
and carried me to bed.
I am November:
counting my symptoms
with a restless mind
under my feet the plaited undergrowth
of leaves, roots, fir cones,
ruffs and rings of mushrooms and
fungi collaring tree trunks with pale lips.
Conkers shining like mahogany
in broken casements.
I am November:
see the groove dug along my forehead
and the puckers above my top lip
whose line he used to love
let me gather my gold
and shine my buttons and buckles;
the desire to hold onto a man
remains a stubborn blind
but blessed be all those who catch me in their eyes
and hold me somewhere in their mind.


Jehane Markham

Photo of Jehane Markham by Heini Schneebeli

Jehane Markham is a true poet...
her poems glow like impressionist paintings.

Adrian Mitchell

Love wells up out of Jehane Markham's work... it made me cry.
Gillian Allnutt

To contact
Jehane Markham
please email

For CV click on link

house image

Norfolk house: Mary MacCarth

Stop press

My Life in Five Poems
A video recording for the Electric Medway online Festival with Natalie Rozario on cello.


16 Sunsets


Click to see review of Sixteen Sunsets
Now available on Spotify


Adio poem below the waterline

Listen and see:

poem on Twitter


New Audio poem:

Above and Below The Water Line
Click to link to listen