How hard is it to write in formal… In sonnet form with proper metre? A few short words written in rever… A rhythm that must not be let pete… And a story, usually of love
Blossom blew off the tree And there goes life I thought As I walked my dog and he limped… And tried to muster a small shower At every lamp post and tree
We have a problem with American Otters. Or was it Ferrets? Or We… I don’t remember I read it in a magazine but Mostly paid attention to the pictu…
Time passes, And our each allocated space and s… relative to the rhythm of lives being lived alongside ours. Strength and sinews fade with sick…
Beat your chest then Bellow and threaten Gnash your fearsome, Perfect teeth You, brute
Staring at your lips And trust me, I try not to but better than watching the sway of y… I wonder; why didn’t I feel this… I consider it while I walk into t…
I drink far less water than I sho… And usually when I do I am breaking for breath Or singing too hard Nothing is better though
I know your nightmare; nothing is… In life you linger, lost in dreams… You project pain far, poison what… All betray your best, banish what… So, wounded within, who can lift t…
walking in the rain past the irresponsible road works watch the oil trickle away colours dancing away always away from me
Seemed I danced To a short fuse And lit another And now it’s all gone Blown sky high
A table, covered in bills and book… A bowl of cereal scattered cables And mugs of tea, coffee and I’m out of orange juice Missing screws and balancing badly
Socks have a good life. They spend their days on separate feet complimenting one another yet not pressed together;
I dreamt, vivid, I asked your han… conscious uncaring we whirl togeth… Is it too much to ask for such a c… I know I have asked, and you said… But it’s not easy to drop affectio…
Caught your eye through the bubble… Of the ale as I drank it Distorted in the glass You looked beautiful It might not be original, but cons…
I’m a flint head; impressionable And oh so crude Battered and worn by Her rough usage
