Author Archives: The Febrile Imaginings Of A Cluttered Mind

Lucille in Lucerne

Lucille in Lucerne

Lucille went to Lucerne

not to steal

but to learn;

and learn she did,

her talents,

for so long

hidden under a bushel,

were soon unhid –

but, being fictitious,

I cannot tell you

a single thing she did.

The Worm

The Worm

I planted a worm in the garden

And it grew so incredibly long

I planted a worm in the garden

Which planted the seeds of this song

It was longer than any snake I’ve seen

A hint of brown, a touch of green;

Now, I’ve planted a snake in the garden

And I’m waiting to see what occurs.

Out of Context

Out of Context

I left old Context town behind me; I was happy to be out of a place where I just didn’t fit in.

They…

They…

They couldn’t have built the pyramids

without the slaves;

… couldn’t have made the oceans

without the waves;

… couldn’t have made sweet, sweet music

without the staves;

… couldn’t have coped with reviews

without the raves;

… couldn’t have painted a full-length portrait

without the accompanying architecture,

portico, columns and architraves;

and they couldn’t have done that,

if they hadn’t at least attempted the feet.

Releasing Daffodils back into the wild.

Releasing Daffodils back into the wild.

I bought them

at a local shop;

tied they were

by an elastic band,

I held them closely

and took their hand

leading them away from that accursed place

awaiting to see

the smiles return to their face;

I took them surreptitiously

to a local verge

and unloosed the recent captives,

back into the wild –

I smiled,

like a child,

and watched them

as they gaily walked away,

in a metaphorically speaking

sort of way.

“Hi, diddly dee, a Sandford’s life for me.”

“I am a Sandford”

I am a Sandford

not a Landlord

or a TimeLord;

and I can afford

to spread discord

when I say that I am not

a Landlord, TimeLord, Warlord,

or the like.

The census shows my family

as Landfords in one past year,

a lack of handwriting clarity

didn’t make the letters clear;

but I knew

from looking and thinking

that they were mine

and I was theirs,

not Landfords

but Sandfords

adrift back in time

(they weren’t TimeLords either),

and named after a sandy river crossing

I may be,

still, I am a Sandford

(in all probability).

Caradon Hill

Caradon Hill

Caradon Hill,

two years on,

again it’s gone –

how?

Stolen?

Difficult –

though it must be possible to do;

but, I just can’t see it myself,

still, there is no doubt

for I can no longer see

Caradon Hill.