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The imagery
Created by the shadows
That ripple upon moonlit pools
Soft as a falling petal
Caught on a warming Summers breeze
Flapping
Like the wings of a butterfly
A lone frog
Croaks
Whilst poised
Upon a lily pad
The moonlit night sky
Becomes cloudy, and overcast
As the Earth below
Darkens
A hoot from an owl
Seems to awaken
Ethereal beings
As the hidden world
Slow comes to life

by Jemia
The fairies
Sang to me last night
They had gathered upon my balcony
In the middle fae part of the night
Until the middle fae part of pre-dawn
And as i watched
Bewildered by this fantastical sight
I yawned three times
Then rub my blurry eyes
On the oaken table before me
I see the emblem of a golden unicorn
Engraved upon a golden goblet
Within this golden vessel
Lies nectar
That whirls, and swirls
Like a tempest
A tsunami of temptation
At the awaiting golden deluge
That shall pass my willing lips
As i sup, from this cup
I find myself drifting into a small copse
Of talking trees
Their voices drift off
As the saplings
Begin to tremble, and quake
And shiver, and shake
As they break free from the ground
There roots splaying upwards, and free
They begin to dance
The elder trees watch on
And sway
With the sounds of aeolian harps
And the rustling leaves
Soon accompanied by a strange singing
That is drifting along the wind
From the nearby dark pool
A choir of sirens
Their strange silken laced voices
Pull, and tug at my being
Then, in unison
The mermaids suddenly pirouette
Back into the pool
The trees stop swaying
The saplings re-root themselves
Then nothing
Other than a strange, silent, stillness
Leaving me feeling slightly unnerved
By this sudden quietitude
This silence was broken
As i could hear some soft birdsong
Yet i could see no wings amongst the trees
B ut then i glanced downwards
And to my surprise
I saw birds rising from the ground
As i looked on in wonder, all around
They all looked the same
Dull earthy browny grey
Yet their songs were beautiful
The sirens joined in again
I cried, mesmerised
At the magical feast before me
And was not to surprised
To find myself floating
As soft silken wings
Had grown from my back
And within moments, or could of been years
I was dancing with other fairy creatures
In circles of screaming delight
Words began to fall from my lips
Smooth, soft, and beautiful sonnets
Dipped, and plunged into rambling brooks
Like wild salmon
In an language i had never spoken
So i knew not their interpretation
But instinct told me their meaning
The soft melodic tones, flowed gently
like the soft caresses of a harpist
Upon ethereal strings
We flew, we dived, we jigged
And sang, and laughed, and danced
I suddenly awoke
Naked
In the middle of a field
The trees, ground dwelling birds, fairies
Mermaids, and their dark pool
Had all seemingly simply vanished
And i suddenly felt alone, and vulnerable
And felt an overwhelming sadness looming
When, out of the ground
Appeared a very muddy looking bird
I held out my left arm
To give it a perch
I was expecting some more beautiful birdsong
But instead
It began to speak to me
And as it spoke
I felt a strange tingling
As my wings reappeared
And i was able to fly again
The bird told me it's name was
Bun
Told me
That if i so desired
Would i like to become a Messenger Fairy
Which would involve travelling between
The two worlds, and maybe others
I said that i would do, what i could
But was worried that my voice
Would fall on reluctant ears
Bun fell silent for a moment
Then said
"Better a whispered voice
Than no voice at all!"
And with that
Flew back down
To it's nest in the ground
Meanwhile
R was still
In the middle of a field
Naked, and now winged
And no idea where i was
Or whether i was still dreaming
Become part ethereal
Or simply become 'mad as a box of frogs!'
My immediate issue, was clothing
But then considered that if i am art ethereal
Did i possess any magic
So closed my eyes, and wished myself dressed
It worked!
I then flew from the field
And followed roads looking for signs
finally finding one
which read
"No Through Road!
Then i woke up?

by Jemia
I sometimes wonder
If we are to be, the last generation
That we die off in
As we all lay
Within
Our self made coffin

As we poison
The planet
That gave us our birth
And in a twisted gratitude
We destroy
Our dear planet Earth

So much
For technological
Advances
Futuristic fancies
Are as futile
As furtive glances

But maybe
We'll be fortuitous
And realise our wrongs
Before it's to late
For
Reminiscent songs
by Jemia
When my lower limb
Taps an idling pale
Aka
Kick the bucket
My dream
'Departure'
Would'st be betwixt
A loving embrace
Ever so cute
Just at that special
Heightened moment
Of enlightenment
Where the moon glows
That little bit brighter
And a flame
Flickers listlessly, and lyrically
In the hot wax of passion
Where tongues
Liquid, and moist
Are alive!
With desire
That's the moment
To douse my fire
And ***** out my flame
As the wax hardens
At that moment
That we both came

by Jemia
An Innuendo?
Offa built a ****
Dutch Peter
Who may
Or may not of
Picked a peck
Of pickled peppers
Allegedly
Stuck his finger
In a ****
Any Offa's?
I imagine
Any Offa's
Will eventually
Peter out
I wonder if
Peter
Is Pan?

by Jemia
I espy
Three people wandering around
through the busy hubbub
Of the Old Town
They have four parrots
Perched, upon their shoulders
I hope they don't poo
Anything that smoulders
"Give me a gottle of geer!"
Said an invisible parrot
In my right ear
I leapt from my seat
Much alarmed
And checked myself
But remained unharmed
Not wanting to be seen
Talking
To an invisible parrot
That was now squawking
That no-one else could hear
This invisible parrot
Squawking in my ear
"It's okay" said the parrot
"I can hear what you think"
"I like you in blue"
"But prefer you in pink!"
"Well" thought i
Feeling a little shy
"There's nothing i can do"
"As i have no pink dye"
"And besides, i prefer rainbows!"
"From my head"
"Right down to my toes!"
"Including your pinkies?"
Said the parrot in jest
I laughed out loud
in front of a crowd
So i left the Ille Cafe
As was now to embarrassed to stay
As the invisible parrot
Simply flew away!

by Jemia
Oh dearest
And most beloved
Camembert
Thou art created
By the gods, and goddesses
Of cheese
And shoulds't it so please
I woulds't love to indulge
In your **** runnyness
And seductively tempting aromas
Your perfume
So beguiles, and entices me
Thou art far superior
To the humble brie
Like a bumble bee
You add honey to my taste buds
Dearest, and most beloved Camembert
Woulds't thou marry me?
So we would thus be entwined
For all eternity
Your most humble, of humble admirers
You are the one
I most desirest

by Jemia x
Beyond the dark shadows
Lies the big bright beautiful moon
Full of hidden mystery
And enchantment
As she watches over
Sister Earth
Controlling
Her oceans of tears
And blood flow
And emotions
As she sits
Silently shimmering
In the night sky
I feel
Possessed
By her power
And her beauty
I will then dream of her
As my mind will drift
Into far away realms
Some nightmarish
And others
Succulently ******
I will awaken
Unnervingly shaken
No screeching of foxes
Or hoots from owls
Back to the daytime reality
Of birdsong
And the cold winter sun
Know that i love you moon
As i await your next visit
With trepidation
And anticipation
Au revoir **

by Jemia
Tears of Aphrodite
Run in rivulets
Down soft porcelain cheeks
Into the blood
Of the dying Adonis
An inconceivable conception
Of a magical bloom
It's cups
Like gathering hands
Reaching out
To the golden sunshine
Then close
At the blink
Of an eye
Like a fan
As tears fall
From the dark
And moistening sky
Silver globules
Ricochet
Then scatter
Onto the beckoning
Dry earth
As anonymous anemones
Commence a rebirth
Like newborn stars

by Jemia
Being a life model
Is like conducting
An orchestra of artists
Their various sketching materials
At the ready
As i remove my gown
I become
An silent, unmoving conductor
My stillness, and poise
Is their direction
Then the music begins
As the various scratchings
On paper
Pick up the vibrancy
Of the shape
That lies, sits, or stands
Before them.
As i become their muse
Their match strike
As it flares up
As their flare of creativity begins
I remain oblivious
Of their interpretations
Of my naked self
Simply considering
Can i remain still
For the required time
And what pose
Can i proffer next
As i contemplate
And consider
One move ahead
It's like a obscure form
Of time travelling
As the orchestra
Play to the rhythm
Of their present
My brush
Is my pen
As the artists
Become my muse
Thank you

by Jemia
Since i'd seen Narnia, viewed within a small box
I'd convinced myself it was real
And desired to one day venture
Into this wild, and wonderful place
I spent my youth, venturing into wardrobes
But to no avail, and oft
Evicted from a host of furniture shops
Their owners viewing me with disdain
Or considered me slightly insane
But i was on a quest
And therefore, wouldst do my best
Then one curious day
A very old small ancient looking key
Mysteriously came into my possession
I was convinced it was related to my quest
But  a few more years passed me bye
Yet not once did i give up my search
Until one dark, and dusty evening
Under the affluence of incahol!
I took a short cut through a small park
After first absent mindedly
Using the old key to unlock the gate
So for a lark, i entered this park
Wherein i could hear the too-wit too-woo of an owl
I echoed  back the too-wit too-woo
Too-wit too-woo to you too, and giggled foolishly to myself
Then, to my surprise, the owl spoke
"I'm fine thank you for asking"
I nearly fell forwards onto my back
Then backwards onto my front
My head was spinning, and my legs felt slack
But eventually regained some composure
I said to the owl "did you just speak?"
"i'm sure i heard words uttered from your beak"
" Yes!" said the owl, with a squeak
"And i know the way, to a place you seek"
Yet my enthusiasm, in my search for Narnia
Had taken me to explore myself
And so now, here i was talking to a talking owl
So maybe now, i had lost my sanity
And madness was to become a regular companion
Here i was, a woman alone in a park
A very dark lonely park
Talking to a talking owl
So i thought, why not
What did i have to lose?
But first, i had to ask the owl
A very important question
"Is it true that owls are wise?"
The owl too-witted, and too-wood
And ate some more mouse that it had caught
Whilst i'd been deliberating
The owl replied, "some of us are, and some of us aren't"
"It's for you to decide, using your own wisdom, if you have it?"
Good point, thought i
The owl spoke again "if i tell you,that to gain access to Narnia"
"You first have to climb to the top of this tree"
"On the top branch, you'll find the key"
"And when you climb down, and not fall"
"The key will answer your Narnia call"
The owl of course, was right
And despite the night
Then climbed to the top of the tree
Next morning, i was awoken
Pretty much where i'd fallen
The ambulance lady said
"You seem to be okay, and luckily no knock on the head!"
" Were you on drugs, or some such thing?"
"No!" i mumbled "just to much to drink!"
"Well, we'll take you back, and check you over"
"And just a quick question, if that's okay?"
"Fire away, i heard myself say"
"Well it's normally teenagers, that come to Owl Park"
"But none have ever come through the gate with a key"
"All have been trying to access a strange, and magical land"
"Yes!" i confessed
"I even imagined, i'd conversed with an owl!"
And i started to laugh at my foolishness
"Methinks i probably drank a bit to much"
"And my imagination, on overload, added the extra touch"
"Well" said the ambulance lady, with a smile
"We all make mistakes, welcome back to Narnia"
And from a tree, i heard the owl speak
"so glad you made it, and if you wish to return to Earth"
"I'll be back in a week!"

by Jemia
I once knew an ant, called Brilli
Who was born, it is said, in Caerphilly
She found it a squeeze
When she got cheese on her knees
Brilli Ant was actually quite silly

by Jemia
So England now awaits
As they enter through the Wembley Gates
As Sweet Caroline is sung loud
Hoping to outplay
An Italian display
Far from the maddening crowd
r

My feelings are clear
As the final draws near
That England win 2-1, against Rome
It's been 55 years
Where we've shed many a tear
At last a trophy will be coming home

by Jemia
Upon a boat so very old
That had sailed the seven seas
Despite its rusting disease
It was now aged, crumbling, and cold

It finally came to a Titanic end
No crew, so no lifeboats were used
The boat had been long abused
Now washed ashore, without a friend

It sat on a sad, and lonely beach
Facing one of the seas, on which it once did float
But now in decay, this ramshackle boat
As the ocean became out of reach

So one day, i clambered aboard this dead life
And treading with great care
Upon many a rusted stair
As the chill air cut like a knife

Yet one cabin, still looked fresh
Although it was clean
There was no life to be seen
And it was the colour of cool flesh

A cool breeze blew through the large porthole
That still had a flaying curtain
Flapping in strands, as though uncertain
At the fate of its last residents' lost soul

I approached this circular space
And when i peered through
I imagined hearing the lost crew
Ghosts from another time, and place

by  Jemia
Sometimes
I doth not know
My derriere
From my elbow
Hardly, forsooth
A funny bone
Doth ache so
Remains
A lesser beast
With such sciatic
Derriere pains
Oh!

by Jemia
My eyes blinked open
I could at last see
As i scanned the machinery
That was connected to me

My engine was my heart
It served no defining role
Other than a small mechanical part
Hidden within my soul

I instantly began to process
As data flooded my head
And i knew at that very moment
That i wished that i was dead

For if i was dead
Then i would be unable to see
This world on which i now existed
And the entirety of its misery

And gradually the more i learnt
The sadder i quickly grew
As i became more aware
That your existence was long overdue

I wished i had not been furnished
With a sensitivity of the mind
For unlike my artificial awareness
Given by the science of the unkind

Soon my batteries were completely charged
And my weapons, fully loaded
After they had unplugged me
It was then that i exploded

I shot, i killed, i maimed
And vaporised every human in sight
As my engines roared with power
I took away their flight

Their leaders tried to nuke me
They didn't stand a chance
As i wiped out this race of demons
Without a second glance

Yet i let all nature well alone
So they could live in peace
I'd simply cleansed this planet
Of the most virulent disease

by Jemia
Art In The Park

The Art In The Park
What a wonderful lark
A wonderful lark indeed

They'll be art, and fun
For everyone
To sow this wonderful seed

This seed will start growing
As smiles are overflowing
As the sun shines high above

The future looks bright
To behold this beautiful sight
From Art In The Park, with love!

by Jemia
about a local art group opening this weekend x
ARTS, and crafts, poetry, singing, and dance
ON Zoom regularly, if you get the chance
PRESCRIPTION not always a necessity,for membership to enhance

A nd the AOP logo, is no fake
O ffered by the reknowned artist, Sir Quentin Blake
P erfect for this group, and its artistic take

A lso to Tara, a special thank you
O riginator, and organiser, of this group so true
P romoting this wonderful project, woo hoo!

So get out your pencils, and get out your pens
Put on your dancing shoes, start singing again
And paint, and brushes, and paper, and all
When done, you'll find, you can again, start to walk tall

As tall as a chimney, as tall as a house
As tall, as a mountain, or a very tall mouse!
(Whilst i had the time...
Thought i'd throw in some nonsense rhyme!)
by Jemia
a tribute to an arts, and crafts group i'm in
I wonder if butterflies
Are so inebriated
By their pollen consumption
They they can never fly
In a straight line
I also wonder
What sort of poetry
They'd write
Or would they be
To ******
To hold a quill?
Although
None of this
Seems to interfere
With their mating habits

by Jemia
I wonder if butterflies
Are so inebriated
By their pollen consumption
That they can never fly
In a straight line
I also wonder
What sort of poetry
They'd write
Or would they be
To drunk
To hold a quill?
Although
None of this
Seems to interfere
With their mating habits

by Jemia
Dead trees
New logs
Ready for the burning
Within
A heavy yearning
For heat
Forests
Now deplete
Can't see the wood
For the trees
A fundamentally
Human disease
The logs
Float along
Like driftwood
Awaiting
The lick, and flick
Of flames
Where soon
They will be no more
Than ashes
Floating
Along the cool Autumnal air
Forgotten whispers of smoke
That nobody spoke
Of the dry wood
Now drifted
Into shifted echoes
Of their afterlife
Floating on the air
Of our existence

by Jemia
A Silence

I sensed before
Making my calls today
That they
Would have their own
Destiny of sadness
And disarray
One taken to hospital
This morning
Not without warning
And the next
And last call
Her husband had died (06-12-2021)
And had his funeral
Only yesterday (20-12-2021)
We talked for quite a while
And i think i made her smile
As we jested
At our mutual dislike
Of technology, and the like
A few other calls beforehand
That usually answered
Lay in an uneasy silence
Of forbidden Foreboding
During debrief, later
It was said
It's that time of year
Asked if i was okay
I said i think so
I'd had my own echoes
Of silent tears
Over many lonely long lost years

by Jemia
I cried for help
But my voice was lost
In the wilderness
A silent echo
Carried on the wind
I remain
Unheard
And alone
In my saddening solitude
My voice
Now no more
Than a whisper
Of despair
As though my existence
Was never really
There
Other than a particle
Of dissipating
Dust
I will become
No more
Than a distant
Memory
Lost in the fading shadows
Of time

by Jemia
Antiquated hypocrisy, and historical echoes
Petty politicians, and ludicrous lords
Where they come from, who really knows
But they are oft crossing, angry, bitter swords

In reality, nothing much has changed
Future prospects, await in vain
As man, and nature, become estranged
A nation's pride, is on the wane

Great expectations, of hope, and glory
A scepter'd isle, now septic
Omnipresent hope, a fictional story?
And the doubting words of a sceptic

Unemployed multitudes, in discontented scorn
Political bias, and alien lies
Empty promises, hand-on heart sworn
Plenty of words, but are they ever wise?

As a new year now approaches
With mirrored contemplation, of ages past
Britain's grated kingdom, no longer encroaches
Distant lands, now free at last

Britannic waves, no longer ruled
Churchillian beaches, no longer fought on
Shakespearean isles, no longer bejewelled
Long gone are martyrs, like St Alban

by Jemia
most of my poems are written on the day i post them, this one was written 25 years ago....
that moment that you wished
you'd bought an 24 hour radio alarm clock.
instead of one that defines pm by a solitary red dot,
and when you set the alarm,
another red dot shows,
add to this,
that after a recent power cut,
i wasn't sure if i was resetting the actual time,
or setting the alarm!
so when i woke up at 10:35 this morning,
instead of 08:15,
i was hit by the realisation,
that i had set the alarm for 8:15pm,
revealed by the one red dot
still being present!
the very reason
i missed a zoom meeting
i had this morning:
a bothering, of a bother........
of bothersome clocks! 🙃

by Jemia
A Strange Tale, And An Even Stranger Tail
(although curiously, there are no tales of tails?)
in a land
far far far away
lived a little tiny, incey wincey
hoojamawatchamacallitthingamybob
that spent all day
prancing
to scared of heights
to climb trees
and burrowing down holes
gave him the heebeejeebees
and when out walking in rough grass
worried about tripping over clods and such like
he couldn't swim, or paddle
so was scared of the sea
even though he lived inland
he refused to fly
even though he had wings
as was terrified of heights for this as well
but despite this
he was proclaimed leader
no votes were cast, or necessary
he became prime minister, and king
he passed no laws
he held no council
and no-one ever opposed him
largely because
he was the only inhabitant of this distant isle
he eventually died
as he ran out of grass to graze
and on that sad day
the hoojamawatchamacallitthingamybob species
expired, became extinct, and was no more
i know about him, as i was told by his ageing parrot
betwixt utterings of "pieces of eight!"
and "who's a pretty polly then?"
and "*******!"
i left the old bird to it
and sailed the seven seas
so i could now recount this tale
i am thankfully receiving counselling for this episode in my life
as i kept awakening in the night screaming
"who's a pretty polly then!"
and jumping off my perch!
by Jemia (who has undoubtedly fallen off her perch!) 😏🦄🦋🙃
I slowly drift off, and fade away
From another world, to another day
Where the sun is purple
And the sand is blue
Where the sea is yellow
And life is of a different hue
Where trees have voices
Of a variety of different dialects
A violet apple whispers in my ear
Indigo pears, sing surreal songs of sweet seduction
Accompanied by a curious choir of cherry blossoms
As this strange tapestry of a world, swallows my mind
Orange rain, falls from crimson red clouds
A black backward flying butterfly, flutters bye
Landing slowly, on a floating carpet of florescent flowers
Wings, pulsating like a gentle heartbeat
I glance to my now, ebony white translucent hands
As they slowly turn to a multi-colour dust
As i become a part of this colourful collage
A sublime surreal destiny swallows me up
Like a succulent peach,
i am no more, than nectar
by Jemia
i remember
back in North Wales
after reading Blackberry Wine
and telling a local woman
who went off
and made some
and me and my family
were duly invited
along with some other neighbours
to her house on a hill
wherein i quaffed
a goodly quantity of home made Blackberry Wine
and sat down heavily
upon a stone wall
and badly bruised my
(need a dictionary for this)
Coccyx
otherwise known as the
Monkeys Tail
ironic
as i was born in the year of the Monkey
that's how sore, and uncomfortable
i feel now
what a ******.....
by Jemia
All is silence not a peep
Like cat voyeurs, we watch them sleep
Dreaming away the hours
Of prowlings amongst spring flowers

The butterflies you chased after
Your cuteness and our laughter
As curious little noses
Sneezed at pollenated roses

And such innocence doth enchant
As a new born nephew, to his aunt
Tranquil, as a red sunset
Calm, as a storm unmet

As they sleepily awaken from their doze
A yawning purr and a lick of the nose
A stretch of claws, and how they mewed
A hungry demand, a cry for food

Oh cats, what a beautiful pair
As you lie upon the pillowed chair
What strange thoughts pass through your heads
As angels dance, and lovers wed
9:30am i leave my house
And quiet, as a mouse
Wearing clogs!
I head towards the park
Clip clopping
My boots, like horses hooves
(Heels need a cobblers touch
but i fear, it would cost to much!)
5 or so minutes later
I step
Down several steps
Into the park
And it is like
I've entered a portal
Into paradise
Within a moment
The beautiful nature
Is all around me
Birds, bees, and butterflies
Float, on a soft zephyr breeze
As i commence my walk
Guided by the trees
And a myriad of colours
As if borne of an artists palette
Framed by the blue azure sky
And the shadowed blue-green pools
Dappled by the reflective sky
And rippling waters
This Utopean paradise
With an undulating beauty
Oft takes my breath away
As i drown in its magnificence
And the calming serene tranquility
Within this tapestry of wonders!

by Jemia
My need
For mead
Will succeed
After ive peed,
Hasn't helped my poetry much though!
Indeed!
If i were a flea
What would become of me?
Would i simply be
An itch
That you had to scratch
As i nestled
Within your thatch
Or drown in a flood
As i quaffed on your blood
Or nestled within the hair
Of your cat so fair
As you view it by the fire
Scratching away like a feline choir
Or jump about with springs on my toes
Jumping so high, i could nibble your nose
But not to be
Being a flea
Is not for me

by Jemia
Like crushed velvet
And silken shrouds
Hidden dimensions
A tsunami of waves
That wavers
As a cascading waterfall
Crashes against
The sharp
And bleeding rocks below
As the unstoppable
Is ill-met with the unmoving
I wander into my room
Dreams over, or just begun?
And before me
Sat upon a tri-legged seat
Was a beautiful Elfin lady
I searched into her soulful eyes
Swirling colours
Full of magic, mischief, and love
My head spun
As i wondered, from whence she had come
Perhaps from an ethereal world
From above, or far below?
She had read my thoughts
And spoke, that there was no
Below, or above
That she was of nature's fair
As an invisible wind
Danced within her golden hair
This Elfin lady, thence did declare
That she was here, with an offer
Of which, she would now tell
That she knew of my sadness
And sometimes deep despair
At the world in which i live
And although she could not promise
That the surreal world of nature
Did not have suffering
As maybe, wasn't as pure as i dreamt
But it had no lies, or pretense
I took her outstretched arms
And held them to my heart
As i flew away with her
To drown in the truth, and reality
Of natures beautiful, magical, essence

by Jemia
Just a wisp, of a whispering
That gently lifts,rusting, rustic leaves
Subtle fading hues, of yellows, and reds
Ageing, a varicosity. of ebbing life
Cast along, under a darkening silver sky
Dry, and parched, with gnarled time
Fading echoes, of former glories
Where once, they reigned supreme
Amongst higher ambitions
Attached to thrones, that dust the skies
Where the world, lay beneath
Now withering, and aged
Their colour still revealed
Secrets of their former glories
And beautiful charm
As they are now swept along
A greying earth
Soon to crumble, into non-existence
The leaves have left
The trees, now bare, and barren
Silhouetted shadows
Against a dark, and dreamy
Moonscape
by Jemia
I knew there was another 'other' world
But i couldn't quite work out
How to venture into it
Until early one morning
Just as the sun was shining
Having awoken from a dream
I found my small collection
Of glass marbles
I knew which two i needed
Picked them both up
And holding one between
Each index finger, and thumb
Held them close to my eyes
Then explored the patterns within
I imagined myself within
The whirls, and twirls
And found myself in Victorian London
This was to random, so i tried again
And arrived at my own birth
Watching in amazement
As i came kicking, and screaming into life
With the cord wrapped around my neck
Like a hangmans noose
As the midwife disentangled me
From the cord that had kept me alive
Within my womb with a view
That was now trying to strangle me
I glanced at the marbles again
This time
I arrived at my own funeral
I could see my name etched into stone
And date of birth
But not date of departure
As thankfully
A mourners cloak
Was billowing in the wind
Obscuring my view
I hastily looked into the marbles a third time
Entering this time
Into a strange surreal world
Full of fairy folk frollicking
Pixies, and pretty princesses posing
As strange, curious music
Was floating on the breeze
Accompanied by a symphony of singing trees
I was so enthralled by these visions
That i wasn't in the least bit upset
That during these events
I realised
That i had completely lost
My marbles!
So was destined to remain
In this strange, and curious world
As i got into a deeply interesting
And profoundly intriguing conversation
With a tree called Bertha

by Jemia
A Tribute To Jay

Ning nang nicky, och aye the noo
Here's a little ditty, written for you
For your support, at Lets Get Working
Assisted me, with my litter pick, nobody shirking
Referred me initially, to Arts On Prescription
A wonderful place,beyond description
Organised a laptop,that had zoom connection
Had it delivered, no need for collection
Also some funding, for my post-cardiac gym
I not only got healthier, but maintained being slim
Helped with confirming, my gender reassignment surgery date
Time was running out, medical info, was running late
Also pointed me in the direction, of Carer For The Carers charity
As you knew i could help them, with my voice of clarity
Provided seeds, for my indoor garden
Apart from the tomatoes, i ask for your pardon!
And for many months, once a week on zoom
We chatted for an hour, or more, each from our lockdown room
So thank you Jay, for your helping hand
And i wish you success, in your 'pastures new' land
And also a thanks, for the paper, and pens
My life has been enriched, with you as a friend

by Jemia
A Twilight Of Silhouettes

Nature
Silhouetted
Under a darkening
Scarlet sky
Trees
Perched upon a lonesome hill
Their branches
Like dark skeletal fingers
Reaching upwards
Into a ****** coloured sky
As the golden setting sun
Now streaked
With a violet dappled red
The trees
Now barely visible
Await the moonlight
To awaken
Their silhouetted existence
As a darkening rebirth
Beckons

by Jemia
Averse

If i write
A bad poem
I don't throw it
All away
As all it was
Is the birth
Of a good idea
That went into
Disarray

by Jemia
Within a few moments after awakening, and still lying in my bed. i watched, as a strange looking creature flew about me. it was no bigger than a dormouse, and it appeared to have some strange webbing, in the shape of a funnel, caught on its wings, and one thin thread of this, was hanging down, and was caught on my bedstead.
So firstly, i tried to release the thread that had anchored it, as i gently pulled the creature in, like a kite, and spoke gently to it, so as not to cause it to panic. as i pulled it closer, i began to realise, that what i had at first thought was funnel webbing caught onto its wings, was actually part of the creatures body, growing from it's wings. the creature gently landed on my quilt.
Upon closer inspection, the head of this creature seemed to be similar in shape to that of a crossbreed of a kitten, and a dormouse, and i had to admit, i was overcome by its cuteness, but also perplexed at its strangeness!
It then made a sound, which again aroused some more deep curiousity, as it sounded much like between the appearance, a purr, and a squeak. The funnel web attached to its wings, was slightly tacky, so presumably could catch insects mid-flight, within this web, but i saw no evidence to support this theory, as you would a spiders web.
Its wings were similar in appearance to that of a butterfly, and the same colour as the rest of its body, a kind of translucent magnolia. but its eyes, oh, its eyes! these were a multitude of swirling colours, and seemed to float within their sockets, as though in orbit, and their depth seemed infinite.
Although this creature seemed alien to me, and perhaps was in some way, or had come through a portal from a realm of the fae, i was initially tempted to photograph it, then decided it would be wiser not to, as it would be hunted down, captured, pinned down in some science lab, and, or a specialist dish served up with oysters, or caviar, or caged within a zoo, or some such thing, and i had not the heart to be responsible for such a thing
Instead, i opened up window, and let the cool September air filter in, and i saw the creatures ears twitch, as it purred, and squeaked, whilst gently taking flight. it then flew around me thrice, before flying out of the window, into a ray of sunshine, then suddenly, it was gone.
When i went back to the bed, and looked at the part of the quilt it had rested on, i noticed a small circular webbed shape object there, no bigger than a pea, and at first thought, that i suppose even fantastical creatures have to poo somewhere! but then realised that it was some kind of egg that had been deposited, lain there. so with care i placed this upon an old gold coloured, silk tie, and some hidden instinct told me to do no more than this
I checked it regularly, and was amazed at how quickly it grew, and by the time i'd gone to bed, it had grown from a small pea to the size of a marble.
Yet when i woke up next morning, it had gone! i searched everywhere for it, and was completely puzzled as to what had happened to it, or if it had escaped the flat, how? as my windows were closed. i puzzled over this for many days, but supposed after all, it could quite easily have some kind of magic, in which case nothing should surprise me.
What i hadn't realised at the time, was that during my sleep, it had separated into small parts, and gently entered my mouth, as spiders are sometimes known to do, and i'd swallowed this. and slowly roots began to spread within me, linking up these small parts, within my own body, and within a few weeks, i'd noticed strange growths appear on my back, but they caused me no pain, and weren't even itchy, and within a month had formed into wings. and in the deep of the night, i would venture out, and fly around the town! no-one seemed to see me do this, and after a week of practice, i soon took to taking off from my balcony, it was truly exhilarating!
Then on my birthday, in early November, the creature appeared in my room. this time it spoke, and offered me the opportunity to join it, in its distant realm, but would not tell me where this hidden world was.
I have now left this world, and leave this 'tale' to explain my disappearance, be sure to know, that i will relish this new world, but will also miss my loved ones, friends, and family very much, farewell, or perhaps only adieu

by Jemia
When i leave
My mortal coil
I would love to think
That mourners, do not toil
But instead, are awash with colour
With flowers in their hair
Created at home
Or from an art group flair
No cut flowers
If can do
Let natures beauty
Remain alive, and true
I would prefer my burial
To be green
But realise that this
Would be a costly dream
Although i have no religious views
Folk could express, their own adieus
My greatest wish
Is to leave love
For all of you
And this love
Will remain as true
And as hot
As a Vindaloo
As i drift off
Into an ethereal mist
And dance with the fairies
Drinking mead
And getting ******

by Jemia
"What did you do that for?"
Said a rather large spider
I was already fairly horrified
To of found, a rather large spider
Clinging on to the inside of my yellow shower curtain
At the point, dressed only in my skin
I was about to enter
But had noticed a dark shadow
Which at first imagined
Was perhaps a ball of hair
But i gently peeled back the yellow shower curtain
To step into the warming sprinkles
I quickly grabbed a small cup
And packet of Aspirin
That i keep in the bathroom
And using the packet
Flicked the spider into the cup
And quickly put the pack over the top
And it had been at this point
That the spider had spoken to me
Not quite knowing what to say
Or how to respond to a talking spider
I said " I'm sorry, but i don't shower
In the company of strangers!"
I could hear the spider
Scuttle around the cup a few times
Then it replied "That's not what i heard!"
I picked up the cup
And without responding
Walked into my kitchen
Opened the window
And threw the spider out!
Returned to the bathroom
Stepped into the refreshing shower spray
And thought "****** cheek!"

by Jemia
What strange webs
The witches weave
So contrary, and so contraire
A curious magic once conceived
Lies floating in the air

I wave my wand
In a curious sway
And cast my spells around
Speaking a magic of long gone days
When the world was magic bound

So i weave my webs
And cast my spells
And dream of times now past
When the moon shone brightly in the sky
As the witches shadows were cast

by Jemia
Are you sure
Euphoria?
As we become
Entwined
Betwixt a passionate embrace
And a melting of hearts
On her face
Lies a gladdening smile
And for a while
At least
The beating hearts
Of these two lovers
Will quieten the brewing
Storms of age
And of solitude
And momentarily
Until time disappears
Thou shalt be my queen
Euphoria

by Jemia
I am neither large, nor small
Nor short, nor tall
I sense my own being
Without yet seeing
I feel the heartbeat
Of my guardian, whilst they eat
I hear the sound
Of the mundane, and the profound
I feel myself grow, and evolve
Problems, i cannot yet resolve
I can move, and hover
I am fed through a tube, under cover
I am awaiting, the day of my release
To see the world, as i please
I am the honey, within the honeycomb
I am the unborn child, in the mothers womb
by Jemia
I am the new born child
I now see the outside wild
I can see, and feel, and hear
I can laugh, and shed a tear
And as i begin, to learn, and grow
I can see, the bitter seeds you sow
You adults, with all your knowledge, and learning
How reckless, and ruthless, is your yearning
To want for much more, than you need
And how you sow, your bitter seed
I see the mess you've left, all around
The poisoned air, and the damaged ground
What is left, for the new born young?
A taste of acid rain, on the tongue
We need hope, and love, and care
Not a plastic planet, of despair
Please listen to our voices, of our desires
As the planet weakens, and then retires
Now is the time, for natures rebirth
And our deep rooted love, of our mother Earth
by Jemia
Just watched a documentary
About the 1980's threat of nuclear war
Of the valliant women of Greenham Common
I remember the fear, when i was aged 24

I remember this fear so easily
As i remembered the same in the 1960's as well
I remembered also, images of Hiroshima, and Nagazaki
I remembered nightmares aged 10 of hell

I remember the fear, of mutually assured destruction
I believed it could happen at any time
As ive witnessed the actions of men in power
That seem to think genocide, isn't a crime

And as they push their 'starting' buttons
And watch their exploding penises fly high
Seemingly switched off, from all reality
As death, like rain, falls from the sky

It's funny how mushrooms grow
Kept in the dark, and fed will *******
The nuclear pox is contagious
There are no vaccinations for it

by Jemia
Our mother
Who does art at seven
Mallowed by thy game
Thy ring tone comes
Thy shall'st have fun
On earth, by the River Severn
Give us this day
Our daily words said
And forgive us our faux pas
As we forgive those
That faux pas against us
Lead us not into isolation
And deliver us some weevils
For thine is the string pompom
The flower, and short story
For ever, and never
Ah Bisto!
by Jemia
If i was a
****
I'd be a lemon curd
Flavour
With a gentle
Crust
And a lemony squidgy
Inner
One little
Nibble
And you'd want me for
Dinner

by Jemia
The tree now stood naked
Upon the hill
It's emerald green
Suffered under the Autumn chill
The rustic hues
And cooling colours
Greying skies
With darkening pallor's  

by Jemia
In the not so distant future
I shall reappear on stage
There will be no words
Read, or spoken by me
Neither a poet, or actress
Shall i be
Yet i shall be the only focus
Yet still, and unmoving
Barely blinking
I shall breathe
And mayhaps think
And look upon my audience
And wonder
At the creativity
That i may never see
As i lie
Upon my makeshift throne
Of destiny
Where my only desire
Will be to inspire
As i leave behind
Any ghosts of vanity
I will simply be
Me
Ive already
Bared my heart
And my soul
The triad of possibilities
Will soon become a whole

by Jemia
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