SLOTH

SLOTH

 

She opened a sleepy, bleary eye

And peered at the clock so near

And saw the darkened, overcast sky

And a thought became quite clear

She would call in sick and stay in bed

And sleep for the whole day long

Nothing would move her, nothing, she said

in her bed she did belong

 

She dreamed of a creature with three toes

That slept for most of it’s day

It’s body is filthy and it shows

In it’s own unique bouquet

Upon awakening off she ran

To the shower to get clean

And hurried to work thinking a plan

To work out what it could mean

 

Waves

Crashing and rolling

Creating our golden sand

The waves keep breaking

Fish Food

Fish Food

I fed my fish a spider

I thought it might be fun

It sped across the water

And made me turn and run

It made me feel so frightened

I ran and screamed some more

So now I am enlightened

I will do this no more

The moral of this ditty

Is try to remain good

Always show humanity

When feeding fish their food

The Woods

The Woods

Sylvan creatures whispering by

Yet out of sight from human eye

Enrich this dusk filled leafy glade

And make me feel at peace

Stalwart trunks and time roughened boughs

With rustling leaves seem to arouse

Within this hallowed dappled shade

A sense of biding peace

The path is leading me away

And even though I wish to stay

This memory will never fade

I’ve found some inner peace

My Round Cat

Lethargic, sinuous, that’s my cat

You see him everywhere

He likes to chat about this and that

Whilst sitting on my chair

Some say his colour is nearly brown

Others think he is grey

He never thinks to pop into town

But rather sleeps all day

At the smell of some fish in his dish

He’ll raise one sleepy eye

And his tail will give a lazy swish

He’s never very spry

He has seldom been a one for toys

He shows disdain at those

He rarely hangs out with other boys

Preferring just to pose

He is a very heavy feline

Some might say he’s too fat

Upon this subject I must incline

But I love my round cat

I Wish To Write

I wish to write on sheets of white

Crisp vellum all the day

With pen and ink dark as the night

But find I’ve nought to say

I tire of all the platitudes

The written smiles and sighs

The oh so righteous attitudes

And sparkly waved goodbyes

The fatuous and vacant lines

Of prose and poetry

Stifle the narrowing confines

Of my telemetry

The blankness of my ageing mind

Suits these empty pages

Yet maybe one day I shall find

A read that engages

Pipe Dream

Pipe dream

 

 

 

Warm glow suffusing old bones

Rapture at images

As I float above my dreams

Wisps of smoke curling

Mingling with euphoria

All worries fade

All cares disappear

As I breathe deeply and sigh

A familiar high

Engulfs me

As I dream of my lottery win.

Child of the fifties

Child of the fifties

Hopscotch on the paving
Crumpets by the fire
Hoopla hoops and chicken coops
And singing in the choir
Climbing trees
And barking knees
And playing jacks ‘till late
Treasure chests and robin’s nests
And swinging on the gate
Snowman in the garden
Snow fights on the lawn
Ringlet locks and grubby socks
And waking up at dawn
Tadpoles in a jam jar
Cress on flannelette
Fireworks and baking perks
And wonderful chemistry set
Donkeys at the seaside
Brass band in the park
Sunday roast and buttered toast
Childhood was a lark

Alone

Alone

 

 

The sea stretches the

Horizon to infinity

Booming and crashing

Against the cliffs

A seagull’s coarse

Laughter cleaving

The moment

Signalling the

Abandonment

Footsteps in the sand

Lead away

As if set in stone

The wind torments

And tangles

And tastes of a

Different salt

Lachrymose figure

Alone

The Mirror

The Mirror

 

Silvered glass

Mirroring humanity

You smile I smile

You raise a fist

Mine rises

Never knowing

True emotion

Merely reflecting

What I see

If you hit me

I break

Shatter into pieces

Before you

Admire me

And I reward

With flattering

Gestures

No goal no aim

Just before you

Revealing

Who you are