Had haircut
Look better
feel happier
Good start to day

Is there an infinite number of stars?
No, matter is always finite
I lie in the hayloft pillowed by straw
innocently looking for the ultimate star
but it's all a mirage

Mother swatted wasp
that stung her
Daughter cried
for wasp

Little striped buzzers
keep interrupting
when I'm trying
to concentrate

Rain
Tests your shoes
Wets your feet
Pleases shoe shops

All innocent
I crossed the fortune teller's palm
with coins - and notes

She looked in her glass
- Crystal she called it -
and in her lilting tones

Forecast a syzygy of planets
which would bring me
all I desired

If it happened

The remorseless rain
beats against the wall
the wind rippling the puddles
of water on the path.

At the window
I ask 'Is it an omen?
Were the seer's words
as senseless as they seemed?'