Poems

Poem

Midnight. A knock at the door.
Open it? Better had.
Three heavy cats, mean and bad.

Poem

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

Poem

'On buses and trains you wouldn't believe
The crazy things that passengers leave:

A pair of crutches, I kid you not,
Hot-waterbottle, full but no longer hot

Poem

I’ve got the 
Teach-them-in-the-morning-
Playground-duty-
Teach-them-in-the-afternoon blues.
My head’s like a drum;
My feet, cold and sore.

Poem

We finished with a song on the football pitch
Singing all along on the football pitch 
Had a little sing with a sing-song-sing
Had a little fling with a ding-dong-ding

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.

 

Poem

The man sitting on the settee,
stroking a cat and watching TV
isn't me.
I am the settee.

Poem

Hand on the bridge
feel the rhythm of the train.

Hand on the window
feel the rhythm of the rain.

Hand on your throat
feel the rhythm of your talk.

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

A stranger called this morning
Dressed all in black and grey
Put every sound into a bag
And carried them away

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