THREAD OF GOLD
For all the stars in the skies,
You remain the sparkling bright—
A hidden gem among pearls, dazzling for the watchful eye.
When darkness descends, and shadows stretch across the land,
You are that golden light, unwavering, bold, and grand.
Even as silence falls with its haunting, melodious sound,
A shooting star scurries through the vast, uncharted night—
From caterpillar to butterfly, you rise, transformed and unbound,
Soaring above the earth, embracing new heights.
Seasons shift through the ancient eyes of the tree,
Revealing visions of futures yet to unfold.
Eternal flames stretch across the horizon, wild and free,
Yet the sun, undiminished, journeys the cosmic roads,
Its beam persists, a promise that never grows old.
Spring’s rebirth brings joy to the sorrowful heart,
The earth, resilient, continues to bear its fruits—
A testament to hope, to new beginnings, to every fresh start,
For these words are everlasting truths.
You are the light that breaks through the longest night,
The courage that stands when all else falls apart.
You are the vision that sees beyond the present sight,
The golden spark that ignites every weary heart.
So let your brilliance shine, undimmed not by fear or doubt,
For in the firmament of stars, you are the thread of gold—
A beacon for those lost, a guide when hope runs out,
A story of resilience, forever to be told.
UNSEEN WANDERER
He walks with a limp throughout the platform,
A lone figure weaving through the morning’s chill,
His battered shoes—tongues lolling, soles flapping—
Whisper of pavements worn thin by wandering.
Ragged clothes hang from his frame like tattered flags,
His face, unwashed, is a weathered landscape,
the visual deep lines of forgotten stories,
Eyes shadowed by sleepless nights and distant hopes.
He paces, calm amid the rush,
A silent island in a desert of hurried feet.
His hand stretches out, trembling,
A lifeline cast into the current of indifference.
“Please, miss,” he murmurs, voice rough as gravel,
A nod, a grateful smile flickering
His smiles were stained by hardship and time.
She watches his gaze as she searches her purse,
Coins clink—a brief moment of kindness—
He nods, a small spark of dignity in his battered frame.
He moves through the crowd,
Invisible to most,
Yet every step is a quiet act of survival,
A testament to the stubborn ember of hope
That refuses to be snuffed out.
He boards the train,
A ghost among the living,
His reflection in the window’s glass—
A man suspended between worlds,
Rubbing both hands over his face,
As if to wipe away the city’s cold embrace,
Eyes wandering to memories only he can see.
For a moment, his half-closed eyes widen—
A glimmer of delight,
As if he’s travelled back to a gentler time.
He smiles, brief as sunlight on rain-soaked stone,
And as the train doors open,
He steps into the city’s endless night,
Carrying with him the quiet dignity
Of those who walk unseen,
Yet leave footprints on the hearts of those who notice.
Paulette Graham
Paulette is a BA graduate, currently doing her MA in Creative Writing at Birkbeck. A storyteller by heart, whose poetry focuses on emotion and resilience—inspired by people, conversation, and the belief that poetry is a place where feelings learn to speak.
These poems were recited during the Birkbeck Open MIC Night in December 2025.