Poems

Poem

I am the word juggler.
I juggle the words
like swords.
I slice sense
with poetic license.

Poem

'Why do you run?' I asked the river,
'So fast I can't compete.'
'I run,' the river said, 'because
I have some streams to meet.'

Poem

I told a whopper, a fib, a lie.
Slipped out of my mouth. It was slimy, sly.

Red Cherry Red
Poem

The living room remembers Gran dancing to Count Bessie.
The kitchen can still hear my aunts fighting on Christmas Day.
The hall is worried about the loose banister.

Poem

Newly baked and fresh today
Eat while hot or take away.

Poem

Spring is baby,
bright, fresh and new,
gurgling with the melting snow,
singing with the first cuckoo.

Jennifer Watson
Poem

My love is like a well-read book
which makes me smile each time I look.
It shouts and whispers, roars and sings
it grounds me and it gives me wings.

Poem

Thomas Farynor, Baker to the King,
Left his oven burning with the firewood nearby.
The embers muttered, the little flames took wing

Poem

The light through the blind is a poem,

the way it illuminates air.

And the shadows that fall

on the floor and the wall

are signs that a poem is there.