Before she died she
would retreat into the bedroom
for her brittle bone health
to be undetected
When the moment came
she was likened to an elderly on terminal
There were butterfly kisses
before the dispatched silence

Excuse me for the comparison
but your fractions  are looking jaded
Was your teacher a bully
who thought you a dunce
There's nothing to grow old for?
Have you ever shadowed the Sun?
And now you're not so decisive
Life is not so rosy
I tell you what is in store
There's nothing but the grim reaper
and your Mother was a harpy
and the folly is the end of the rainbow

Look to your destiny
your fate awaits you,
whilst riptide currents submerge you
in barnacled fistfuls.

Sunset silhouette,
pitched as one
one last river  to swim,
self-willed happenings
break the dawning
holding the key

I heard the wind dancers surge,
before the silence between
the leaves,
shuffling forward,
one foot into the darkness.

I wished for the  trail of bright Ferris wheels
before becoming something better
The blackbirds sang on the shores
I then became the roots and stems
searching  for a blossom of light

The Marigolds notwithstanding
a  skull of grass prevails:
Summers nagging scorcher into August

The spent anemones mourn their spring patch
as a light day lingers for its bicycle spokes

As the moon like a visceral womb
carries her well being

Hydrangeas, dahlias
and Victorian roses,
alongside the urban gardens,
enough to please us.
Blue-eyed Jay,
sings his songs,
at the joy of being alive.
Whisp of air down his lug holes,
praise to Mary the gardener,
to a woman born free.
Counting down this floral beauty
and add to this a creation rich flowerbed

Nothing going
you never give me your patience
only a situation
Do you know what's it like
to hear your mantras
You're impossible to know
Elephantine and restlessness combined
Corporation t-shirt
you untangle your alliances
showing no imagination

Couple with time on their hands
A lot is happening
Fashionable ideals
smart television
very much interested in their timetable
That's their story
not their sorrow
or heavenbored

Dusky city lights
The homeless ply their cardboard
All is not firmament in this town
The shells of half erected buildings
Barricaded shop fronts
pending yesterday’s dreams
Take me from wild places
There is no hero to gaze at
The Magpies screech at the Robins eggs
and the town is Menacing again
lamenting the countenance

You germinate and ruminate your new victims
Worse than a common cold
but nothing like the Spanish flu
but you're a mutant strain nonetheless

Masses of people in lockdowns and vaccinations
having to self entertain
as never before
an advocate for self-preservation

I turned to the child within
and there was no prize
I tried to put a smile on my face
yet it was another shackled wall
prepositions succumb  
there are options in me
yet sadness always came first
In my uniformity
my disappointed thoughts must stop
who told you
you were a thief

Where are you going?
in the morning song
Were you ever a talisman?
And now are you a golfer or go-for?

The music is so empty
I  fade into the crowd
I never got your reply

We are here under someone's request
buttressed by  someone  else's wild secret
We make discrete our escape

Back home
save at least the truth for me
Were you ever happy?
Did you change enough?

Seen through the eyes of a child
I have shared in your insufferable humor
And learned to tie my shoelaces on Sunday
But I need the assuredness of the night
Seeking approval from Father
I have seen my siblings sing for their own being
But I need to find certainty for the first time
How I wish I was a snow leopard
unknowingly setting me free in the darkness

I will be your clown
if you want me to
walk the edge of the oblivion for you
(Snowman in Wintertime)
I will be the best friend you had
A Homefire crackles
and I sing you a nursery rhyme
I mean your gratitude

The happy turn of hours
in sunnier chimes.
Half-dried mown grass,
and showering meadows.
Bird song in the fields.
Shaded trees wheeling around.
Moon Crest,
glows the lived in old house.
Where time passes by
still, as the lingering day.

First, they check out your profile
like an oceanic liner making land sight
Then they say they like you
like a docking ship
but don't contact you
So you message them
and no reply
passing ship in an  Indian summer sea
Trained for untimely disappointment,
oceanic liner,
passing through the lonely night
seeking redress of red leave

I dragged the sleep from my eyes
and half let the spirit of the Lunar God prevail
Yet we are too grown to believe in the unfathomable
of crumpled carnations and starched liked motions

The feted lover's recompense is almost due
The next time it may snow
with my cardboard suitcase
of self-willed bluster

Matchless in Savannah
without an ignition spark
like a giant matzo ball impending your exit
I never quite liked the act
First, you like me
then on the first flimsy pretext
you upset yourself
me not reading in fiction or
believing in little angel helpers,
hardly aided moi chances
It is shrill in Outer space
The shrouds of tidings aren't very close

October morning are you up to the task?
Who needs their trousers repaired?
Is the tailor up to  scratch?

Mothers and their daughters incessantly arguing
They've got lifelines on their aprons!
Old Man Lenin spoke of the epoch of change!
still, he blessed the rain.
Robin on the pitched fork
Rebekkah's still shimmering
Is the soil heating before the fall?
October Morning what use are you?
when you come so sheepishly

The soft months of Summer
turn to Autumn
as a nip and tuck
gives us the last  flush
of the flowers

And truth meekly comes
like a welcome half friend
as life so far has been good for you

With a blazing coat of a  sun
wrapping the dew round your bodice
that makes for the gleam of Rudbeckia
an unasked for gift

Franca  built her Fulham EMpire
selling her vintage clothes
This old poet is infatuated
with my very own Saint Assisi
Whilst chain smoking
she's
thinking about the goodness in others
Professing rarefied wisdom
She's a Scrumptious friend.
when  the internet
attends her company

Sunday morning comes hoovering
Who needs their soul saved
Some would rather **** their socks
Father cried last night
Salt tears reeling from non redemption
Vicar was not too pleased
He still blessed his congregation

Sunday morning
What use are you
laying on your fat *****
whose flock needs repairing
Hard wired Conscience!

April showers, fandango,
get a hold of your handle.
But she's got a hole in her soul
she's one of the night people!
the gypsy women said
which is upsetting her,
keep abreast of her darkly days,
lonely singing out of tune.
The whole thing is bringing her down.

Tempus Fugit to all past
bright young things have better opportunitic bearings
when cerulean clouds rightly account

The Queen of consternation
drinks champagne wine
She picks marigolds before play

See how they shimmer
Autumn leaves
myriad never the same

She has faced her cares down
reading lackadaisical from lovers pages
She's old enough to know better

I dont need neo Conservatism.
I want constant action.
Give me 26th October.

Ochre over gold
I've lied for you
Become a Bedouin wanderer for you
The fitfulness of cloud cover
The open sun illuminating
the downcast

The sap of lies
wells up like compressed putty
I am late
languid late
I try to cover for you
palely and familial
I am fated by you

Fickle they come
always disarming
see how they jettison
warbled rulers
across the knuckles
playgrounds for the tremblers
Carousels once shone
alongside the rim of failure
childlike fences fall

Dandelions have their way.
I'm writing blank verse
because I have no images to build.
It's like searching for a suite of cards,
and tomorrow will be replete.
Picture my pride,
poetry is like a starling.
The grass has gone to hay,
my hope like a ceaseless parade.

He blows you with his words
The fire of youth gone
He fails you in the wind
digging the trench
forced a smile
never good deeds
Stake and Jury
fixed in your tracts
ice-cold plight

an ex stray makes the best pet
rested and assured
after hedging our footsteps
when first encounted
now you've nurtured
and are a long lasting loyal friend
hopefully you forget your trauma

solid as a rock
yet slightly territorial
with the other cat,
we await your daily developments
you made for as a hero

Fashionably festooning your claws, hold dear
the symbiotic  shaped  relationship
between master and cherished
A shared history
worthy of remembering
those exuberant paws
through the grab of time
into space and blossoming

Tell it like it is
Your Monday silence smile
is a parody
Yet your Sunday roasts with
erstwhile friends
lasts for hours
the time that went away

The sky is an open store
can you see you own it
Your guesses linger
amongst the trees
Walk tall and return
The lanes you used to walk
are covered with woodbine

What mirth makes your smile
Laughing into the sails
playing with shadows
you don't understand
veins stand, you're easily led

Fortune hasn't prevailed, Blue Sunday
The Moon was made of Green  cheese
The Morning  once blew westwardly

Your white petals glances
deep into  the dark
My raision d'etre being a blackbird
thrusting itself figuratively into the nightly gales

Bracken, aspirant launching
itself against the backdrop
and the gentle rain spilling
neath its hover

When shall the Spring come
Like an essential oil rinsing over me
All good things worth waiting

When she was rested
she said life doesn't have to be a tragedy
I can show you what the night is for
Love doesn't have to be a pony ride
Unwade yourself
surrender to the swim
Your God is when shadows are present
across the dancing floor
in a state of infatuation
I blissfully agreed