May 15, 2012

 

 

Don’t speak to me now,

I’m deep in thought-

A sort of waking dream!

 

 

Don’t look at me now,

I’m lost in a trance-

Sat by a babbling stream!

 

 

 

 

 

To tell the truth, I lied before.

I didn’t think you’d get to know.

It simply was to save my skin.

But even so – it was a sin.

 

 

 

 

 

She was a virgin of her own choosing.

Not yet deflowered.

A fortress of protection,

or maybe a sexual coward?

An heiress of un-trodden sand.

Her body a temple

A shrine

A wonderland of undiscovered treasure

And only she held the key in her hand

 

 

 

 

 

She had a sharp side to her nature

It came from her mother’s side.

But thankfully her father’s gentleness

calmed the tempestuous tide

 

 

May 14, 2012

 

 

Go away, you are much too young for me,

You’re asking for trouble, so best leave things be.

It’s fun to flirt, until someone gets hurt

So please, just go away from me.

 

I know older women you find more appealing,

You say they make love with a lot more feeling.

I know you’re passionate, I’ve heard you talk

But for your sake now – little boy –just walk!

 

I felt it the first time I held your hand,

That sexual attraction, that nobody planned.

So I’m begging you to just leave through that door,

As I’m finding this feeling so hard to ignore!

 

Please go now, you’re just too much to resist,

I’ve known it ever since the first time we kissed.

But if in your mind you’re really quite certain,

Then you go upstairs, whilst I draw the curtain….

 

 

 

 

May 11, 2012

 

 

She disliked everything about her

weekly piano lessons, and especially,

the presence of her music teachers

husband, who always seemed to hover

uncomfortably in the background!

He was later arrested for something or other.

At which point, her lessons promptly ceased,

and she thanked God for divine intervention.

 

 

 

 

 

By chance, I came across Veronique

               one Sunday morning in a Riga street.

                                    She touched my very soul.

     No more than nine or ten herself and

               already a surrogate mother

                       out walking with her siblings

                                    In charge

                                              In control

                           Yet, so soft and gentle

 

    She cradled her tiny young cat, Bonzic

                       as if a babe in arms.

                                     He let her too!

           He seemed content

                        and protected.

      We chatted

                       Had instant rapport

She was as bright as a button

          and introduced me to her eldest brother

              around the age of six or seven.

                     His teeth in a state of decay

 

      In a push chair were two more children

                           Looked like twins

                                    aged two or three

                                           or so it seemed to me

 

At the time my heart was breaking.

              I was stressed

                           and out of my tree.

                  Obsessed with my own problems

 

I wanted to walk on with those children

                              Stay with them forever

              They had nothing

                                 Yet, they had everything

                 Love, contentment, bonding

                             I could barely pull myself away

                                    They taught me so much

 

 

 

 

For sure, we are living through a drought

With sandbags at the doors all too evident

And ducks sailing down the streets as if in Venice

And the latest hosepipe ban removes any doubt

That we really are living through a drought

 

The bluebell wood a quagmire, they sit huddled together

trying to survive this unplanned drought

As we wade about in wellies through fields that

once grew brussel spouts, in our topsy-turvy

world, where there’s a drought

 

Flotsam and jetsam hurriedly swept along

fast flowing waters as rivers break their banks

Four seasons in one day, leaving not a trace of doubt that

with record April rainfall figures, and brollies selling out

This really is the strangest ever drought

 

 

 

 

May 9, 2012

 

 

I am a non-conformist ewe,

And stand on high moral ground

Enjoying the view.

However, my partner in crime

Can be rather frisky and enjoys

More than a tot of low land whisky!

 

I, being a non conformist ewe

Prefer to admire from afar

My dear rams bottom.

However, my partner in crime

Has a much more open mind,

Taking pride in the length of his stride.

 

I, being a non-conformist ewe

And also an expert de-coder

Can measure the length of a stride.

However, my partner in crime

Who I think I did mention, lives life

In a quite different dimension.

 

 

 

 

 

Fields of endeavour holding

Headstrong billy goats watching

Sheep tupping each other

Wearing waterproof coats.

 

 

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