Schiamachy

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?

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.

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!