with ears aloft
claws like glass
pads silk-soft
she treads the grass

spies her prey
with laser vision
with last survey
makes decision

quick as lightning
bird is caught
caws are frightening
but all for naught

no more encore
for little robin
for he's no more
the cat's his coffin

and on the sod
as garnish'd cod
one feather lies
as proof of prize

life circles the drain
with every breath
chaff with the grain
approaches death

what oaf am i
when death is nigh
to waste the time
on poetry rhyme

there was a man from Tunbridge Wells
who gave off the most offensive smell
friend and foe
told him so
"go away! you smell like *!"

so this man of whom i tell,
the man from Tunbridge Wells,
he took a shower
till he smelt like a flower
and went off to climb the fells

but when he returned from his hike,
he smelt like haddock and pike,
said he, "what's the point
o' me washing me joints?
I'll smell like I ***-well like!"

perched on fir-tree, towering o'er fences,
its gold and scarlet delighting my senses,
his song piercing miasma o' reverie,
awakening the past, the shadow of memory

of years gone by, of years gone past,
of time that has run, away so fast,
a time when sadness had not yet intruded,
a time i lived, myself secluded

a time i passed through wild fields,
in morn of golden sunshine,
when rays of happiness pierced the shields
o' corporeal, to reveal the divine,

there in thickets, oblivious to man,
sings the goldfinch as only he can,
with black and red and beige of royalty,
as corporal general dressed flamboyantly

unaware of its own grandeur
twittering as skilled raconteur,
he ruled the air of my school days
and to this day sends forth his rays

we teach a child abc
as toddler on mother's knee
learns for life (for life learns he),
the person and being he'll grow to be

so it's vital to know which abc
you teach your child, adult to be,

is it a for apathy, in face of suffering,
b for brusque at child's snuffling,
c for coldness at beggar's uncovering,
the abc of demonic discovering?

or a for assistance to those in suffering
b for benevolence to child snuffling
c for concern at beggar's uncovering
the abc of devout discovering

the abc your child learns
will steer him in his life's sojourn,
when you're no longer by his side,
that abc will be his guide

so make sure those first small steps
set him right on life's project
so when he's faced with life's neglects
his instinct knows what to do next

for beneath an urbane veneer
can lie a devilish sneer
but mother's early applaud 'n cheer
sets an unshakeable frontier

it came abruptly when least expected
yet all predicted it would happen
humanity was least directed
free for all and all for passion
men were wild and unconnected,
religion, morality, out of fashion
nobody wanted to be corrected,
soul was dying, lying ashen,
it lay neglected, unrespected,
so when it came, it came expected.

there once was a little robin,
frequent visitor to our garden,
how i loved to see it bobbin'
on sun-drenched soil, paths well-trodden

it came within a foot of me,
with tilted head for me to see
into innocent, soulful eyes
that had soared the hills and flown the skies

well puffed was he on plentiful diet
of grains and seeds and slugs so quiet,
he loved to sip from the water tub
and shelter 'neath the bay-tree shrub

but now alas i see him no more
that robin redbreast that came to my door
i know it now but not before
he made life richer and now i am poor

if it's your pain i feel,
i'm living

crushed by heel
stronger than steel,
if i can forgive,
i'm living

hit by hand,
slipper and shoe,
crushed under stand
by bullying shrew,
if i'm surviving
i'm living

but those who delight
in offence and spite,
those who take joy
disturb to annoy,
those who take pleasure
in receipt of cringe,
needling at leisure
like dermal syringe

are dying

they see the morning light
but behold the mourner's night,
see white in Lady Moon
yet are deaf to her gentle tune,
though they breathe air of life,
their air's noxious as carver's knife,
as the shadows of twilight
that close in without respite.

What is death?

Death is the hurt i do to others,
death is argument between two brothers,
death is the calumny knowingly scattered,
words spoken as if nothing mattered

death lies not with the battered and shattered,
though broken with blood on wall splattered,
life is forever with the downtrodden,
the persecuted 'n tortured, man's forgotten.

What is life?

it's the cry of a baby in the still of night
the sound of suckling at mother's breast,
the misty breath on a wintry night
the call of the dove from its warm nest

the wings of a dragonfly in swiftest flight,
the bark of a dog that kindles fright,
the fanciful journeys as brain takes flight,
the spray of salt sea with waves winged white

life is the favour one does for another,
the joy, the smile, of father and mother,
life is the name of all-hallowed one
who saw end of time ere world had begun

i remember the time it all came together,
the child that was lost, the constant pressure,
the accident on the road that sent me flying,
the watches at midnight of wailing and crying

the father had gone, the grandfather followed,
jocundity had stopped, in sadness to wallow,
the starling replaced the *** and the swallow,
and imagination raced like Hermes to Apollo

till all of a sudden i went pop
as if part of my brain had gone for the chop,
flummoxed, bewildered, fright in backdrop,
like train without breaks, i couldn't make it stop

no longer does my mind rush on,
harried by incessant chatter,
no longer does my pen bear fruit
with workings of grey-cell matter

the highs, the lows, have softened 'n mellowed,
as fields of grain, of browns and yellows,
time goes faster and weeks race by
as two days between two Saturdays lie

the wine, maturing, regrets lost time,
the lost opportunities of me in my prime,
i long for those days when i sailed the skies,
when the sun and moon shone in my eyes

finally, finally, i'm coming to terms,
with my mortality, the diet of worms,
a finality that priceless make
the minutes 'n seconds i'm still awake

Risorius is a muscle in your face,
a key to happiness and to grace,
It helps pull the angle of the mouth
to smile at jokes or sommat uncouth

situated in the space
twixt mouth corner and your jaw,
on the side of your sweet face
to produce grin or guffaw.

so when next you smile or deride,
though latter's to be used most sparing,
remember that muscle at your side,
and wonder at His creation unerring

unploughed soil, with pebbles 'n stone,
none witness to its prowess,
it lies there empty, all alone,
but of potential boundless

nothing ventured, nothing gained,
sleep will not build Rome,
only through action summit's attained,
and then you may dine at home

We owe fealty to ourselves,
fealty to our soul,
for therein the divinity dwells,
till death doth take its toll

birds stopped their twitter,
grasshoppers, their chitter,
dragonflies, their mating,
air was ... anticipating,

'twas as if the world was slowing,
as the silence thickened,
'twas as if the gods were showing
as the music quickened

as darkness edged onto the stage,
spread its lonely wings,
as silver orb had come of age,
bit into the fiery ring.

favoured man with its fright,
savoured us with its blight,
age-old omen not lost its bite,
silver enchantment of the night

i'm seeing straight, i think,
though mind is somewhat reeling
and i feel i'm stepping on a brink,
it's either me or ceiling ...
the walls were perpendicular
but now they're inward leaning,
i'm usually not particular
but now i've funny feeling,
corridor used to be much wider,
and wall-to-wall, the ceiling,
yet now, just after cider,
[hic, was it whiskey i spied? eh?]
i'm walking slowly from side-to-side
bumping walls on either, slide,
woops, i've landed on my hide,
my head feels better on its side,
just leave me be and tell my bride..

what is this that grips my senses
its magic grasp inveigling,
the mauves, the reds, as blood of ******,
as fairest ****** beguiling

depths of salmon orange,
the deepest, velvet pinks,
bid me pay them homage
as Pharaoh to his Sphinx

i gaze in heartfelt wonder
and touch her deepest secrets,
scented lightning, silent thunder,
quenching soul with her streamlets

of ever transient virility
of flower of fertility,
her arrows o' Cupidian agility
blushing unashamed fecundity

words cannot paint your beauty,
or describe eternal mystery,
they cannot do their duty
unlock thine vernal divinity

horn-rimmed spectacles would fit her well,
a wide-eyed owl surveying tree dell,
scanning everything from her perch,
watching the battle-field, ready to lurch

with still glance, as priest with bell,
all and sundry, she seeks to quell,
with tongue as whip to flail and scourge,
all else besmear, purge and smirch

if she berates, she'll make it clear,
her will is paramount, just quake in fear
from the rooftop she seeks applause
and will rejoice in finding flaws

bumptious 'n pushy, she rules her cell,
hers is paradise, all others, hell,
if you're lucky, you may carry her verge,
and at her bequest, sing her dirge

One ray brightens a thousand mirrors,
One sun lights a thousand lights,
One sea feeds a thousand rivers,
One bad 'un makes thousand blight.

One kind word illuminates world,
As lighthouse, or banner, newly unfurled,
One mean word or palaver
Drapes the universe in balaclava.

One good deed begets another,
and that other has a brother,
and so the goodness will multiply
to rid the world of sorrow 'n sigh

Let's quench our own selfish nature
By realising we're all G-d's creation
let everyone be humanity's saviour
before we cause our own cessation

chanced upon the vegetable bed
a frightened wren off flew
in swiftest glide, straight back and head,
his hind brown tail askew

from there, not far, he lit upon
a branch of kiwi tree
upon which he sung the sweetest trill
whilst eyeing me coyly

'i'm innocent', he seemed to say,
"though smallest British bird,
i went to glean some grass and hay
before your wrath incurred".

and while he sang and probity pled
robin materialised
there on border of raised veg bed,
and slugs 'n flies surprised

'wasn't me either your radishes pecked'
his presence seemed to say,
'it's the bigger birds that ought get checked'
and off he flew away

the whip cracked across my cheek
back i staggered faint and weak
couldn't answer, couldn't speak
little knew the havoc t'would wreak

as for him, i'm sure
he'd think nothing more
of scar with no cure
i'd for life endure

he thought it didactic,
part of art and tactic,
which made it more tragic
the henceforth prophylactic

against all emotion
a rhinoceros' hide
that he'd set in motion
leaving me inside

raw to to the touch
in constant clutch
aquiver in hutch
a broken crutch

"it's the swolgamouth", he said,
"and i thought he was dead!
he's clearly gone ahead
and on my swoth he's fed".

"a swolgamouth?", i challenged,
"are you quite unbalanced?"
"You mean a sort of moth
is feeding on your swoth?"

"a moth?", he cried, "why, no!",
giving his nose a blow,
"It's a type of bendigo!
I'm surprised you didn't know."

"A bendigo?", I quoth,
"you mean a type of sloth?
but, I say, in troth,
sloth don't feed on swoth!"

"the bendigo", he said,
with exaggerated composure,
but he seemed to lower his head
as he made the grave disclosure

and his eyes darted left 'n right
that he wasn't overheard
and shrank back in affright
at cry of flying bird

"Why it's", but then was silence,
as he vanished from my view,
it seems the bendigo tyrants
had him taken as their due.

it happened on the day 'fore last,
when all looked grey and overcast,
when suddenly, the sun, unasked,
shone. He'd smiled.

the teenage girl was locked in angst,
nervous, blues, 'n private cranks,
when all at once, she whispered, 'thanks'.
What? He'd smiled.

the wards were grey with peeling paint,
the old walls sighed with moan 'n plaint,
when inmate whispered, 'You're a saint!'
'Why?' 'You smiled.'

One
peal
of
laughter
              b r e a k s
                              i  n  t  o
                      ­                      a
                                         ­        t   h   o   u   s   a   n   d
                                                               ­                         r     a     y     s

of light, through crystal rafter,
dancing twixt the rainbow blaze

little did the unknown crafter
dream of such displays

dark despair, feeling worthless,
tucked in bed by day and night,
lost his rudder, sense of purpose,
lost his reason, lost his fight.

so i led him slowly inwards,
deep within recess of mind,
there to find his evil landlords
that had left him deaf and blind

and as arrow to its target,
as a magnet to piece of steel,
to a memory of long departed,
imagined scar that wouldn't heal

in his mind his little sister
dead in cot at one month old
in his head allowed to blister,
fester as unhealthy mould

he, at five, alone with her,
conceived the thought that he'd killed her,
self-respect began to wither
creating shadows to bewilder

close thirty years, the secret blame
had struck him down and made him lame,
because of false sense of shame
the game of devil with no name.

Crinkled leaves tell a tale
Of attack of aphid bug
As their honeydew leads a trail
Of ants to feed upon their drug

The curled foliage a dilemma
the quandary of a bind
presents itself as their gemma
is ravished 'n slowly mined

as all their sap, their life juices,
feed blackfly while unaware
of their damage and abuses
'midst symbiotic love-affair

Now do i quash the bugs whilst feeding
squash 'em 'twixt my thumb 'n finger
stop the pests from further breeding
or do i let them live and linger

Why should i have more ruth 'n mercy
on the senseless vegetation
are the greenfly more unworthy
that i be cause of their cessation

Why should I be a feared colleague
of grim-reaper in his quest
my act proclaim i am in league
with unwelcome saturnine guest?

rat-a-tat-tat, the metal annihilator
taught our ears its foreign tongue,
in the hands of violator
takka takka's sung

sowing death and violation
hungry for the mutilation
of a child, of a nation,
brat-a-tat spells termination

it was the third primordial sinning,
first was greed, then came envy,
as long as greed 'n envy's winning,
third is sure to make his entry

bloodshed with green mama, jealousy,
goaded by lust, spouse, father, king,
as one, begetters with their progeny,
takka takka sing

altogether, takka takka takka,
baby, child, mamma 'n pappa,
in the name of Phi Theta Kappa
takka takka sing

as i wax older
memories get stronger
ghosts get bolder
their haunting, longer

whispers always been are getting louder
this world seems much less real
the spiritual that much prouder
trying less to conceal

but woe the strength that once was mine
the strings i used, strong as twine,
to attach 'n bind to Supernal Mind
have fled 'n left me crippl'd 'n blind

i knock on a door feeble 'n lame
shivering reed, battered, ashamed,
stutter as i've forgotten his name,
i lean, exhausted, on door-frame

beyond i sense a thousand souls
connected with mine that reached their goals
deeply embarrassed I curl up inside
but now there's nowhere, nowhere to hide

is there anything, anything at all
that'll allow me to stand up proud and tall,
to emigrate to yon Elysian Fields
as body surrenders to dust and yields

his snow white beard filled the room
with angel-like consistency,
a sage of everlasting bloom
of ceaseless work 'n industry

indefatigable humour and wit,
a dryness that refreshed 'n bit,
always himself, running from honour,
could never be he'd be a goner

yet now i see a blanket black
set o'er coffin with hearse
can it be, he'll never come back,
within this life of years

but though his mortal frame is gone,
i see and feel his presence,
he's closer now that he's moved on,
a part of Omnipresence.

'i'm right behind you',
chirped Mrs. Blackbird,
with belly speck'd ecru
her nape feather furred

she stood in the shadow
'neath privet hedge
overlooking a meadow,
grass, buttercup, 'n vetch

he was silent,
head askance
look, intense,
as if in trance

then, waxing violent,
legs in dance,
in thrilling suspense,
his bill a lance

with hell-bent obsession
a drill in progression
making accession
in swift succession

yellow beak struggled
with fat 🐛
quietly snuggled
beneath garden tiller

'twas an uneven fight
for poor little mite
in one swift bite
his day turn'd night

now he dangled,
head now mangled,
chicks wrangling
mouths angling

And from side portal,
Time gave small chortle
o'er combat mortal
of cycle immortal

Said nettle to butterfly, 'welcome back!'
'i remember you when you were black,
bushy and wrinkled, fat and hairy!
hardly a month since last you fed on me!'

'bushy and fat? don't be ridiculous!'
snorted Painted Lady of colouring meticulous,
'but what can one expect of insolence infamous,
just like your hairs, pointy and venomous!'

'don't be so hoity, my young lady',
hummed Urtica dioica, 'I'm not so shady',
'you, on the other hand, have changed your look,
you're like a chameleon or shifty crook!'

'Don't nettle me', said m'lady blushing,
'i'll not be accused of guile or bluffing,
it's you that ought to be of yerself ashamed,
hiding burning-needles in hairs untamed!'

'Each to their own', shrugged the burn-****,
'Don't ask anyone to touch me Harris tweed,
but i'm here for you, to meet your need,
i give you food, I help you breed'.

The butterfly appeared though not to hear,
Engrossed with the nettle's front 'n rear,
Her abdomen bent, spiracles as bow,
She laid her young children, her seed to grow.

'It's not too late, my little young'un,
a little courtesy and manners to learn,
be nice to he who gives you good turn,
'cos it's your eggs i do discern

on underside of my green leaves,
the least you can do is say "how d'you do"',
but butterfly had gone, as succulent beeves
to little brown wren, in beak as he flew.

the competition starts as you're born
its championship's not foresworn,
the gun is fired on very first morn
the finish-line reached as others mourn

on the way you'll find much to nettle
there to prove your grit 'n mettle
if moral compass's in fine fettle
you'll emerge stronger, as quenched metal

if you fall on the way, help is at hand,
that too is innate, divinely planned,
it's human nature, you'll understand,
just keep on, maintain your stand

as best can be, that's all that's required,
try not to look if you're being admired,
do as your soul is heavenly inspired,
until you're tired, all strength retired

then soul ascends with all it's acquired,
the bruises of life, as medals, attired,
and as the spirit is gently expired,
G-d whispers, 'yes, it's this I desired'.

Like fresh ice-cream
a newly baked cake
the ripple of a stream
the stillness of a lake

Is innocence untouched
Purity unsmutched
'Fore world makes inroads
'N virtuosity erodes

Now life's been hurdled
'n the cake's gone stale
the ice cream's curdled
and from the lake, a wail

Let's take a tour of the Zodiac signs,
On each month, we'll scribe two lines

Aries Sun has zest and verve
A quarrel with him takes a nerve

Taurus Sun's down to earth
to change his mind's like giving birth

(Original:
Gemini Sun's social and fickle
Rely on him and you're in a pickle)

Gemini Sun's social and flexible
Friendly, affable, intelligence incredible

Cancer Sun's moody, insecure
Sensitive to a fault 'n slightly obscure

Leo Sun's loyal, a good worker,
Idealist, noble, rarely a shirker

Virgo Sun's responsible and practical,
exacting, self-critical, not always tactical

Libra Sun wants peace at any price,
refined, sociable, and really, very nice

Scorpio Sun, now there's a challenge,
Intense, willful, he'll always manage

Sagittarius Sun's cheerful and friendly,
though mind their anger, can be deadly

Capricorn Sun's hard-working, societal,
Mostly reliable though obstinately practical

Aquarius Sun goes off beaten track,
Idealistic, social, they'll usually have your back.

Pisces Sun's deep, if somewhat lymphatic,
dreamy idealist and slightly erratic

And herein ends our brief excursion
Hope you enjoyed are astral version