Monthly Archives: June 2021

I saw…

I saw a Gull

on the way to Hull;

I saw a Ghoul

on the journey to Poole:

where I met a Loris

whose name was Doris;

and I heard a Yak

upon the way back.

I wish…

I wish I was a poet

a-swimming in the sea;

or do I mean a fish –

it’s all gone wrong for me.

“Don’t drink the water!”

Don’t drink the water

that lives in the sea,

there’s more life in one drop

than a mind’s eye can see.

.

Take a look at a picture

from a microscope slide,

and consider the creatures

that would wriggle inside…

if you drank the water –

what sort of home would you make?

.

So, ‘don’t drink the water!’

is the decision you should take,

“Don’t drink the water!”

It would be a mistake.

Behemoth

Be he moth,

or be he myth?

Be he without,

or be he with

in?

The mightiest moth

that ever pledged a troth,

or upturned a trough,

was loathe to cough

as he’d had enough

of feeling rough;

and, being tough,

he carried aloft

a sturdy bough –

no one knows how –

and launched it at thou,

it hit thy brow,

made you go ‘Ow!’

and the moth took a bow

and flew away,

and no one knows

where he is now,

Peterborough? Or maybe Slough?

The be he moth

of Loughborough

or old Mos Cow.

Rose-Tinted

“Rose has just tinted me.”

“Texted you!”

“No, definitely ‘tinted’. Look!”

“Oh, yes, that’s a look that many would be proud of—“

“Yes…?”

“— for their grandmothers.”

It’s too hot / too cold

“Bonjour!”

It’s too hot for soup;

too cold for ice-cream –

how this has come about

I just do not know;

so, ‘Soup’s off!’

and the ice-cream has ‘melted, thawed,

and resolved itself into a dew’.

“Adieu!”

.

NB Thanks must go to W.S. for his line from Hamlet.

Growth

Every day

I get a little bigger –

when will it ever stop?

I love to swim in the sea,

enjoying every drop

of moisture that I touch.

Such is my way,

that I think that I may

live for ever,

outlasting all the creatures

of the sea,

and those of the land;

for they don’t seem to understand,

that they only add to their own demise

when they feed me;

then they respond with sheer surprise

at how I’ve grown.

If they don’t own my creation

and attend to my ending,

how will they ever survive?

Letting Go

I looked at the gauge:

I was getting low,

I needed to fill up,

still a long way to go;

time was tight

I had to head on

or else I just might

end up dwelling upon

what might have been

but never was,

and all because

I was holding on

instead of letting go.

Candlelit (Romantic Me)

My first thought

was to have

a candlelit meal.

Breakfast sprang to mind.

I ought

to have

avoided a £3 meal deal,

but, they say, that Love is blind.

I bought

into the idea

invested my hard earned

into £6 of food –

and fork handles

(which I thought would make her smile).

She, fraught,

considered the fare,

and I soon learned

(what I construed)

something about candles

as she went to powder her rose –

she’s been gone

an awful long while

Strength (10th) & Favourite Scent (11th)

Strength (10th)

I am not strong,

and tag along

at the back.

I have a lack,

of strength,

and the knack

of behaving

like a fledgling

under attack.

I surrender to all

and sundry,

and go asunder

under fire.

I aspire

to be more than I am,

but know,

that what I am

is what I’ll be,

there is definitely, absolutely, no SuperMe.

—/:—

‘Favourite Scent’ (11th)

The smell of napalm

(at any time of day)

is not my favourite scent;

and the smell of cherry brandy

is not to be sought,

as my intent

is to avoid cherries,

I have an allergic thought reaction

to those berries –

if berries they are.

So, what is my favourite scent?

Old books. Of course.

And especially one written upon

Greybeard the Norse.