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Nicola Wood Jan 2018
For your next Apprentice Sir Alan
why not try a wildcard like me
a poet who knows you're an Aries
with a grade five maths CSE

My pills kick in around nine so
don't ring at five in the morning
please bring coffee and croissants
if you must drop in with no warning

I find rushing around undignified
I'm not in the greatest condition
I prefer to unwind with some yoga
in the takeaway sofa position.

I'll impress that hotel in week two
with my day-glow Arabian night
eastern promise with sunglasses on
and a box of Turkish Delight

In the boardroom I may be unstable
wildly manic or very depressed
if I'm stressed I swear like a trooper
or scream like a woman possessed

I'm a loner who worries for England
but my presence is always hypnotic
when I pitch I turn into a goddess
her style's charismatic neurotic

Still, ET's got Universal Appeal
so maybe I'll try hugging Claude
science fiction meets X rated horror
not B for the bland or the bored!

At eight hundred thousand a word
this poem's good value for money
I'm sure that if these were sold
they'd take off like the Duracel bunny

I have words for every occasion
and an unconventional streak
my hazelnut haikus and astro bites
for T-shirts and mugs are unique

Sir Alan, your search may be over
there's really no-one like me
sensitive, sharp and semi-detached
with a grade five maths CSE.
I know this rhymes and it's long, but it's been fun writing it anyway.  Hope you enjoy reading it.
Nicola Wood Aug 2017
The Smuggler’s Angel
(Ser Davos and Shireen)

too much ice
on weary bones
in your heart

a fortress, guarded
what flowed within
was silent, deep

empty rooms
cobwebbed, grey
and full of dust

till innocence
disarmed you
unexpectedly

with a smile like
healing balm
that found you

in distant lands
found the light
in you, buried

trust opening
out like a rose
petal by petal

beyond all scars
visible, invisible
a home at last

for your spirit
bruised and grey
this not yet flower

almost butterfly
untouched by spring
your snowflake girl

ethereal, a feather
blown away, purity
melted, vanilla skin

reduced to ashes
night rain falling
behind your eyes.

you carry her
in your heart
love’s memory

indestructible
made of wood
a titanium star
Written in response to characters from Game Of Thrones

— The End —