Dear Mr Postman,
Our fate was sealed with one look
Love, Mrs Postman.

Can someone please tell me
On which plane we now reside?
Valuing the cheap laughs that the
Freakish Trump provides?
Existential crisis doesn't seem
Far off to me, when war and strife
Escapes our eye, in our frivolity.

Brunch-lunch, potatoes, potatoes
Sausages, bacon and beans.
Black Pudding and mushrooms
Tomatoes and egg
Served with coffee
and freshly baked bread.

And when it's all eaten
and everything's done,
I'll take myself out
for a walk
or maybe just sit in the sun

Last night again I dreamt
of you.
the girl
With the flowers in her hair
Wrapped up in tidy tresses
stray wisps blown by the breeze
You're long and lean and limber
with curves……. Wheeeesh.
Dark eyes and drop dead smile.
You're gorgeous
I love you
Please can we have ***?

But I'm gonna have to tell you
It's something you should know
I hate them ****** flowers
They're gonna have to go

25th May 2017

If I speak too slow
I lose you
Too fast
I scare you off
I need your words
to help me play
This cryptic
game of love

I enjoyed it when i played with you
And I hope that you did too
But your scattered limbs & silence
Suggest this isn't true

Daylight slips away
Stealing beauty
Leaving growing darkness,
despair and
deeds too dark for sleep