Poems

Poem

Which can be brushed out long and fine
to lie across a pillow
or bunched and scrunched into an angry
knot of rain before it is undone, 
when long hanks of it hang

Poem

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

Poem

Next door live three old ladies. 
They’re sisters, well into their eighties, 
but to us kids, they seem beyond time. 

Poem

It is midnight in the ice rink
And all is cool and still.
Darkness seems to hold its breath
Nothing moves, until

Red Cherry Red
Poem

The moon was married last night
and nobody saw,
dressed up in her ghostly dress
for the summer ball.

Poem

Hello! thanks for calling
I'm just off on my bike
That's my room up there
Take a look if you like.

Poem

The sea lays big glass hands on the sand,
spreading its fingers out as if new
to the shore. It can’t quite believe in it.
It wants to hold on before the glass breaks.

Poem

The space is a friend.
I tell it what hurts.

I tell it why I'm not good.
The space is a friend.
I tell it the bother I'm in.
It won't let me tell lies.

Poem

What do we do with a difference?
Do we stand and discuss its oddity
or do we ignore it?

Do we shut our eyes to it
or poke it with a stick?
Do we clobber it to death?

Poem

Aren’t you cold and won’t you freeze,
With branches bare, you winter trees?
You’ve thrown away your summer shift,
Your autumn gold has come adrift.

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