October 11, 2012

 

 

The hostility of gnashing fangs,

as on a thread, their romance hangs.

 

 

October 7, 2012

 

 

The smiling mackerel sky

is telling us that tomorrow

will be fine, and we should

rest easily in our bed, after

partaking of very fine wine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A hard nut to crack,

he came across as brisk and cold,

but beneath his organised exterior,

lay a harrowing story untold.

 

 

 

 

 

One recalls

word for word

moments of tenderness

softly purred.

 

 

 

 

 

The trouble with shooting from the heart

is that the chambers only one way dart,

and once the roller coaster starts,

the exposed rawness, to all, one imparts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She was simply

working her way

forward to the

moment when

permanent unity

would be the order

of the day, but

until then, her

suitcases weren’t

allowed to gather

dust, nor aching

heartstrings turn

to rust.  

 

 

 

 

 

She did for Sidney what

she should na aughta,

and accepted readily

the gifts he bought her,

and all was well til the

wine turned to water.

What a valuable lesson

old Sidney taught her.

 

 

 

 

This ‘will she, won’t she’

game is over.

She’s waltzed out of town

doing the Bosa Nova.

 

 

 

 

The cost of boastful carelessness

The price of a secret exposed

The consequential holy mess

that only bravado knows.

 

 

 

 

 

Believe in a fantasist at your peril

Be swayed into enticing false hope.

But be sure when it all goes tups up,

alone, you will have to cope.

 

 

 

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