Tuesday, 21 March 2017


I studied my shadow's sapient subterfuge
as she sequestered in a selenic delight,
somewhere I've never gone, in the dead of the night—
though I wished that I might.

Her swasivious sweven was fleeting and false
as she distracted me from my supine routines,
in a fickle frisson of Freud's wish-fulfilling dreams—
she is not what she seems.

I wonder where tomorrow takes my shadow, and
why can't I too show the silence that she displays,
and if I stray from the sun can I go away—
can I leave with the day?

Sunday, 12 March 2017

Her Horticulture

The lifeless tendrils of her faded amaranth abate
in vicissitude of the verdure found within her Spring.
All plucked are her petals, as their douceur dissipates
and left is an unbloomed knosp of a madness enate.

Still those truculent turbid tendrils tangle around my chest
and try to feed on my tacit and altruistic manner.
Internecine and intransigent, I sometimes detest
those sciophilous, shady seeds that ever began her.

I shudder to think of poisons injected by her thorns
or the injury that one would endure from ingestion.
The vesuviation of variegation is forlorn,
revealing the verisimilitude behind beauty's deception.

There's a torpid tabefaction in this tryst of turgid shoots
and I'm wary of tatonnement in the tawdry tangles of Spring.
I will avoid the plants bearing the serpent's ripest fruits
and, like weeds, rip them up from their once roseate roots.

Friday, 3 March 2017

Dinosaurs in School!

A pterodactyl's gliding in the hall,
we're all terrified and trying to sing.
We all really hope that it will not fall
but I spotted some Blu-Tac stuck to its wing.

A T-Rex is terrorising the loo 
and its arms are too short to wash its hands.
I don't know what this carnivore will do;
can it sit on the toilet or does it stand?

A triceratops is catching some hoops
that it found outside with its three horned face.
The teachers are trying to read with groups
but children are running all over the place.

A stegosaurus' plates rattle the office,
letters and envelopes fly everywhere.
It whips its tail and spills all of the coffees
onto the computer, the desk and the chair.

A brachiosaurus is sat crying in class,
rifling through all of the children's trays.
It's trying to find some nice tasty grass
on which this poor hungry herbivore can graze.

And finally we find a diplodocus
sat on the carpet talking to his friends...
suddenly the teachers and children are raucous
Friday's loudest roar as the school day ends!