Jam First then cream,
Scone not scone
Fulfill that elusive dream.

“Its not ideal” I often scream
But its something that people often moan
Jam first then cream

And yet to the heaven as they careen
To hear the folk who often drone
Fulfill that elusive dream

How people with their teas preen
And how the others should atone
Jam first then cream.

Surrender your Englishness become clean
You’ll never feel again alone
Fulfill that elusive dream.

You are perfect do whatever you mean
Scone not scone
Fulfill that elusive dream
But please remember, Jam first then cream.

Harry the hedgehog and Sammy the Snail, lived together, in harmony, in the garden of a cottage called THE LAST TRAIL.

The owners of the cottage were indeed very nice. They were always putting out food for squirrels, hedgehogs’, snails and of course mice.

By day Sammy would pull his head inside his shell, which Sammy found kept him warm, very well.
Harry would pull his body in tight, making himself into a small ball.  

Together Harry and Sammy would wait for night time to fall.
They would stay this way all through the day. Hidden and safe, with nothing to say.

When night time came, Harry would extend his body and shuffle his feet, wriggle his nose and walk down the path to his own rhythm and beat.

Sammy the snail would pop out his head and slide and glide along the garden path, swerving from side to side.

Together they would make their way to the vegetable bed where the owners of the cottage left some milk and soggy bread.

‘Yuk!’ thought Sammy, in his mind the owners, they weren’t being very kind.

Harry though he would stay and devour the meal while Sammy made his way to something that held better appeal.

Whilst Harry took his time consuming the soggy bread and milk. Sammy’s food choice was of another ilk.

Sammy made his way to the cabbages where he used his thousands of tiny teeth to strip the goodness from the leaves.

Bellies full Harry the Hedgehog and Sammy the snail made their way back home, leaving behind them a silvery trail.

They settled for the rest of the night, happy in each others company, waiting for tomorrow’s twilight.

When they would wake again and make their way to the vegetable bed to fill their tummies before returning to their own safe beds.

Befriended by a billowing beast
Who came a knocking on my door
Smiling in a bullish way
Was a fearsome minotaur*

'Excuse me sir, not to intrude
But do you have some sugar you could lend?
I've just moved into the neighbourhood,
I hope such Impertinence doesn't offend.'

Nervously i filled the sugar bowl
He regaled its pewter beauty
'Sir you are most erudite'
Gave a wink 'you are a cutie!'

This is why I'm on this date
I didn't think its wise to refuse.
I'm too much of a simpering coward
To upset a man with sharpened hooves

The time will arrive soon
to pick a new pope
and here is where I am confused
I had no idea an American Baseball team
chooses the next pope
the St Louis Cardinals though
will have a tough job
I wasn't aware their stadium was called the Conclave
but there you have it
if they win the world series
and pick a new pope
they will have killed two birds with one stone
so to speak

So amusing was it to see
All these faces smiling at me—
Gaunt faces echoing me—
Dancing with restless chagrin.

All these echoes grinning at me,
Constantly unsettling me,
Peering— peering down at me—
Searching from outside within.

Swaying— with repugnant glee.
Brandishing— a pound of flesh.
The consequence of separate reality.

A fiction is woven in silence
the worn out shoes at the door
a house rule observed in compliance
they're neglected and piled up once more

discarded yet thrown all together
worn in but stretched to the sole
it creates a softer creased leather
but odour combined takes it's toll

facing online screen
my harnessed heart hardens
        harassed collectively