thistle thorns
and cockle shells
All pretty in a row-
too bad I can't escape-
I wouldn't know where to go.
-
Can't-
someone
anyone
please protect me-
from these monsters in my head
they spin me round and round
'Play with us,' they said-
'Play with us,' they beckoned,
as they gathered us all around,
so we could play rings with Rosie-
till we all fell to the ground.
-
Ashes,
ashes,
her last palace brims high with smoke...
Oh what a silly child's game-
*Don't you think it's a lovely joke?