stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 19317
    [post_author] => 18
    [post_date] => 2018-09-04 10:25:14
    [post_date_gmt] => 2018-09-04 10:25:14
    [post_content] => sliced like a pear.
            pips pop between the strings and frets
                          and slide like incensed sand into my hair.

stone-walled and mortar-bared,
            black, dusty, spare, breeze-borne,
                         like a rhythm running through a shadow, then ensnared.

mouth closed, the breaths of agar trees
              remember the strip of bark and splay of leaf,
                           motions tressed and burdened like a frozen frieze.

dark freckled knuckles winking under silk -
               spice-scented, deluged, warm-wind-draped -
                            lie hollow, like coconuts shorn of flesh and milk.

if I touched its warble I’d feel musk,
              taste something coloured like sultana skin
                             and hear the breaking bawl of burnished husks.

it’s gargling a throat of hot perfume.
              spat at my helix, its dripping clothes my earlobes,
                            wandering wild, like a wave of wine in a sober room.
    [post_title] => ode to oud
    [post_excerpt] => 
    [post_status] => publish
    [comment_status] => closed
    [ping_status] => closed
    [post_password] => 
    [post_name] => ode-to-oud
    [to_ping] => 
    [pinged] => 
    [post_modified] => 2018-09-04 11:30:22
    [post_modified_gmt] => 2018-09-04 11:30:22
    [post_content_filtered] => 
    [post_parent] => 0
    [guid] => http://poems.poetrysociety.org.uk/?post_type=poems&p=19317
    [menu_order] => 0
    [post_type] => poems
    [post_mime_type] => 
    [comment_count] => 0
    [filter] => raw
    [meta_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [wpcf-published-in] => 
            [wpcf-date-published] => 2018
            [wpcf-summary-description] => 'ode to oud' won the under 19 category in the BBC Proms Poetry Competition 2018, and was inspired by Jessica Wells' Rhaspsody for Solo Oud.
            [wpcf-rights-information] => 
            [wpcf-poem-award] => Winner, BBC Proms Poetry Competition 2018 (Under 19 category)
            [wpcf_pr_belongs] => 
        )

    [poet_data] => stdClass Object
        (
            [ID] => 13587
            [forename] => Annabelle 
            [surname] => Fuller
            [title] => Annabelle Fuller
            [slug] => annabelle-fuller
            [content] => Annabelle Fuller is a winner of Young Poets Network challenges  'Palimpsest Poetry - the Greys Court Challenge', 'Automatic writing', and 'Shakespeare's shoes'
        )

)
stdClass Object
(
    [ID] => 13587
    [forename] => Annabelle 
    [surname] => Fuller
    [title] => Annabelle Fuller
    [slug] => annabelle-fuller
    [content] => Annabelle Fuller is a winner of Young Poets Network challenges  'Palimpsest Poetry - the Greys Court Challenge', 'Automatic writing', and 'Shakespeare's shoes'
)

ode to oud

Annabelle Fuller

sliced like a pear.
            pips pop between the strings and frets
                          and slide like incensed sand into my hair.

stone-walled and mortar-bared,
            black, dusty, spare, breeze-borne,
                         like a rhythm running through a shadow, then ensnared.

mouth closed, the breaths of agar trees
              remember the strip of bark and splay of leaf,
                           motions tressed and burdened like a frozen frieze.

dark freckled knuckles winking under silk –
               spice-scented, deluged, warm-wind-draped –
                            lie hollow, like coconuts shorn of flesh and milk.

if I touched its warble I’d feel musk,
              taste something coloured like sultana skin
                             and hear the breaking bawl of burnished husks.

it’s gargling a throat of hot perfume.
              spat at my helix, its dripping clothes my earlobes,
                            wandering wild, like a wave of wine in a sober room.