LOST IN FRANCE

In the distance
a dog throws its voice

so it seems
the trees are barking.

Sun and shadow
playing tag

between rows and rows
of trees.

France is made of
landscape and light.

I feel as if I am
walking in a painting

that is wet yet.

I nothing but
a mobile little smudge.

I drink in the light
as if my soul thirsted for it.

Now a yellow dog
leaves its post

to chase me half way
down its road.

Now a Yorkie
guards the crossroads.

Here a sheepdog
silently trails me

until it has successfully
seen me off its turf.

I smile sheepishly.

I, lost and found
all at the one time.

Finally the road turns and
the village runs out to meet me.

I, now only lost
in wonder.

LIFE CHANGES

I had 2 boy fishes
Bubble & Squeak
(but they croaked it) .
I cried when they died.

Now I’ve got 2 girl fishes
Kisses & Cuddles
(& they swim real neat) .
Sweet!

I lost my teeth
& Mum meets

her new boyfriend Trev.

Mum & Dad - split.

Dad got engaged.

My sister had her first kid
at 15.

I had my hair cut short
& was sad.

I think poetry...puberty’s
a bit of a change

because you grow tall

grow spots

grow more hairs

in private...
...places.

I got a lot older & I kissed my first girl.

Girls have changes in their chests
becoming outstanding.

Testicles get bigger.

Both sexes change emotions.

The way I feel ‘bout growing up is

...I’m scared!
I got shingles because I was depressed.

I got foot & mouth for humans.

I got something wrong with my legs.

I don’t want to grow up but

I will have to just

...deal with it!

I swam with dolphins.

This is the Snakes ‘n’ Ladders

of my life.

BECOMING THE GHOST

Your death has made
a ghost of me.

I wander through a world
no longer mine.

I have lost the me
I used to be.

Reality flickers
in the candlelight

and goes out.

A someone I
don't know

left in my place
a changeling  who

claims my self.

The stranger in the mirror
gazing out at me

with my own eyes

that look and do not
...see.

Your death has made
a ghost of me.

THE MOMENT BEFORE THE MOMENT

( for Linda Rose Parkes   )

The sea stands
by my daughter's side

like a huge monster
she has tamed.

"See...sea...my friend?"
she pats and pets it.

Both of them smile
for the camera

as if either
could never die.

This the moment
of the photograph

that fixes them
both in place

held in a forever
of black and white.

The moment
before this moment she

had ****** her hand
into the sea's massive body

and like a surgeon or
a magician

brought forth
a shell.

To her it is
a little miracle.

She plunges her hand  in again
conjures up a bikini top.

Blue with white
polka dots.

On her next slight of hand
she creates bladderwrack

with such a casual
nonchalant magic.

"What is..?" she
enquires of me

She falls in love
with its sound.

Will "bladderwrack...bladderwrack...bladderwrack!"
all the way home.

She is my tiny God
making a universe in her own image.

The camera clicks
captures the creator in the act.

Her pet sea gazing at her imploringly
like a Kraken on a leash.

She pats it with a splash.
A wave licks her toes.

The sun shines in glorious
black and white.

Her laughter
my prayer.

three chairs for Linda Rose Parkes​
for making the Opera House gig happen
three chairs....hip hip . .HORRAY!

TEACHING TIMOTHY TO READ
( for Maureen )

She is teaching Timothy
to read

even though she
can't read herself.

Tongue firmly in cheek
she traces the words

with a tiny fingertip
that knows the story

off by heart she
could read it in the dark.

She is "pretending reading."
She has my every nuance and pause

by rote
making great efforts

to teach Timothy
the puppy

but Timothy the puppy
is more interested in

the un-thrown stick.

Timothy the puppy thinks this reading lark is
strictly for the humans.

"Once..." she begins
in a Fairy Tale-ish voice.

Timothy the puppy
barks in acknowledgement.

"Throwthestickthrowthestick!"
Timothy the Puppy's mind thinks.

"...upon a time
a long long time

...ago!"

Timothy the puppy looks
adoringly at his little mistress

with such an immensity of love and
licks her finger as it

travels over the words
the story's journey.

"Oh you..!" she scolds
"...are not even paying attention!"

"It's no good...I give up!"
she frowns at the unhappy creature

throwing the book away
in a prissy hissy fit.

Timothy the puppy
full of the joys of

a dog's life
( it's the only life he knows )

chases the fluttering pages
that fly like an exotic bird

brings Hans Christian Anderson back
his mouth full of words.

ALL THE FUN OF THE FEAR

drifting through The Tunnel of Love
squeals screams & kisses
fumbling towards marriage

Hall of Mirrors
trying to escape my self
many times over

candy floss
sick on a stick
puked pavements

three drunks
clattering like skeletons
escaped from the Ghost Train

carousel music
dragons chase horses
the drunks try to step offffffffffffffffff....

car crash
the dodgems
minus the laughter

the Big Wheel leaves us
high above it all
stuck up in the sky