"felty" poems
As the name implies
It would look quite sweet
Red wings, red lips and
red felty things on her feet.
A red dress with sash of course
done up in a big red bow.
Red curls flowing from a crown
No hang on, no she's not in panto.
She is not the wicked witch of the west
or some heavily done up dame.
No, she just looks after things of red
Everyone gets confused over her name.
No she cares for the rose and stuff like that
She flies around early morning blossom
No dont mis-judge this little red fairy
Like Mrs Bradshaw is for the scarlet geum.
The Red Fairy is the fairy of the poppy
To her the nicest red thing in the place.
She'll get her golden ticket for this of course
when she meets her maker face to face.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
Speckled breast,
Red berry clutched in your beak.
Mistle thrush on winter's frosty lawn.
I heard you sing two moons ago-
Storm thrush in a wind bowed tree top
In spring you came to the garden,
Fat, fluffed, child with your mother
Feasting then on hoards of leaf gorged caterpillars
Who'd rendered felty mullien leaves to shreds.
Dec 3, 2012
Dec 3, 2012 at 12:19 PM UTC
i fed on your gushy sunshine
i feed on the void black line that centres all of your smiles
and fall foreign in felty dreams of extremities in distance
untravelling a bursting sense of yelp back across my lone moor of memory
for that i am blue wound
there is love in life and liver in pâté
it's food and a crush in on me
squeezing out my colours ruin with blame
- a discharge
May 20, 2024
May 20, 2024 at 3:17 PM UTC