I’m ‘there’ in the picture,
can’t you see?
I’m the idjut swimming
in the cold of the sea;
I’m the one at the back
dawdling free;
I’m the clown at the fair
but no-one’s looking at me;
I’m the invisible man
stood next to the tree;
I’m the one who is missing
from the picture,
God bless me.
I had an idea
for a poem,
a wonderful poem,
better than all that I have ever written
before…
then I saw a hypothetical squirrel…
… and that poem was no more.
Mama’s little soldier
went off to the war,
though he didn’t really know
what he was fighting for;
and when he came back,
he was in a box,
Mama visits him on Sundays,
and irons his socks.
Seagull swoops,
loops the loops,
and captures the moment,
that you lost your food,
forever, in your mind
the bird that had designs upon your treat;
swiped by beak and feet
in one mad rush of adrenalin…
gone!
But not forgotten,
as the gull gulps
his Ill-gotten gains,
upon your parade fall the rains.
Tears have ears;
only little tiny ones,
ones that you can’t really see;
but, be aware,
that they are there.
I’d lost my favourite knife,
I had it only then,
just a moment ago;
I want to use it;
but, do I have it? No!
it wasn’t there, and when
I looked, it wasn’t there again!
I looked up high,
I looked down low;
oh, where, oh where,
would my knife go?
I checked under my pillow,
and in the washing machine;
all the unlikeliest places
that my knife it could have been;
and then I found it,
my heart now be at rest;
it was where I’d left it;
in my late husband’s chest.
It’s Friday Morning;
it’s no good mourning Thursday,
just get over it.
 | Words from a Lentil… on Do Butterflies Have Parti… |
 | Riverside Peace on Do Butterflies Have Parti… |
| Riverside Peace on Lockdown Diary |
| Words from a Lentil… on Lockdown Diary |
| Riverside Peace on Lockdown Diary |
