The tiny wave makes
the smallest of ripples but
carries the most sand.

I'd love to be part of the poetry scene
as long as I can take that to mean
goblets of adjectives
fizzing with nouns
quaffed in a hall full
of poetical sounds.

Sadly I fear it would more likely be
I. Alone. Solo.
With a nice cup of tea.

There is a torrent of cascading sapphire,
Bursting and burbling across rock.
Fringed with ivory froth.
And pooling into a depth of aquamarine and mint.

Poor poets would be rather flush,
if we could dab words with a brush.
There had never been a call
For a sonnet on your wall.

Sometimes you can have lots of friends.
A supportive family.
A great career.
Holidays, cars, televisions, games consoles, designer clothes and and and.
Someone you have never met before catches your eye, smiles and says something kind
And in that moment of utter despair and totally unknown to them
saves your life.

I have never been mad before
And I must say I'm finding it swell.
I've got a room with a lockable door
And the windows have bars on as well.
I have never been mad before,
And I must say I'm having a riot.
The voice in my head keeps me company
I was never a fan of the quiet.
I have never been mad before,
And I must say it's awfully nice,
I have a fabulous jacket with buckles
That wraps round my chest snug and twice.
I have never been mad before
Go on! Give it a go!
Living your life sane with a functioning brain,
Is awfully boring you know.

Ferrets in the laundry room,
Parrot in the shed,
Hamster in the lounge,
Puppies on my bed.
Snake in the bread bin,
Kittens on the stairs,
Glow worms in the cupboard
To catch you unawares.
Emu in the garden,
Koala in the study,
Piggies in the front yard,
Where it's nice and muddy.
A bathroom budgie,
Dogs guard bedroom three,
When I win the premium bonds,
Who will rescue me?