A Poetess

A poetess I long to be

with fame and lauds perpetually

as I write whilst sipping tea

A poetess I long to be

though it seems I lack the clarity

and yet perhaps eventually

A poetess I shall too be

with fame and lauds perpetually

 

Advertisements

Alien?

442

Listening

I sit there

listening to a bable of people and traffic

loud and busy.

I sit here

listening to a single dog bark

far off and away.

And I am me

alone inside myself

in both places.

 

Addled Adages

time and tide turn on a dime

the wise owl let theĀ dogs out

nosey parkers look in horse’s mouths

rolling stones drive up the wall

early birds are two per bush

quiet mice get pigs in pokes

flying timeĀ skins cats

running jokes fall on flat faces

sly foxes get what’s coming

dead ducks are daft as a brushes

cold turkey’s the end of the line

 

 

Runaway Sleep

Sleep eludes me

hiding under my pillow, slipping round the bedroom door

and running down the hall and away

to hide, laughing at me softly, behind the sofa

I look for it under the remote control

and in the screen of the television

It isn’t there

Nor in the refrigerator, where I look next

I think it has escaped into the darkness beyond the windows

or maybe gone to play with the cat, who seems to find it easily

Perhaps in the guest room?

Or the cookie jar?

Eventually I give up the search and begin to write

Then, as dawn is breaking,

sleep slinks shamefaced into the room and taps me on the shoulder

expecting to be welcomed back like a prodigal son

and I do

folding it into my arms and rushing it off to bed

before it changes it’s mind

 

Lavender Spider

11986391_10207398382014704_4396038468148220690_n

Aching Insomniac

It is early, and I ache

And I think that I will make

A resolution

To find a solution

For this late night turbulance

That keeps me awake

 

Dahlia Diameter

11947474_10207398379974653_8251487194725542971_n

The Embers

the heat is still there, a shimmering glow

but the flame is not as high nor as hungry

yet a banked fire still burns

passion’s white heat in abayance

conserving it’s finite fuel

but a banked fire still burns

it only takes one leaping spark

one smouldering obsession,

for a banked fire still burns

some small scrap of fuel may ignite

a conflageration that burns down the house

yes a banked fire still burns

so tread carefully near the hearth

be wary of the fuel you add

because a banked fire still burns

Read the rest of this entry »

Yellow Beach Flower

yellow beach flower

« Older entries

%d bloggers like this: