A theatre plays along the banks Of the water side The willows draw a masquerade Their shadows splitting light. Silver herring, Is the glam on show While from back stage, The heron takes a row.
Here rides the bittern Snatching feet A needle spire For a beak It twists above us And breaks the current Then when it disappears Its step you cannot hear Among the reeds
The climbers eye a bounty up, Above the striped horizon, Clinging on to rolling skin They scale the dusty way. Tiny beaks peep over streaks Of hair that tips the hill Their necks are stiff and their cheeks are stretched From picking with their bill.
When afternoon drags And ivory clinks on Resting on rags Under master’s bad song Your ears start to creak To notes that are wrong There’s no shame in that, You should howl along! When rain beats the shed Like a wicked old drum A sigh from the desk Makes you nose her thumb Her fingers... Continue Reading →
When 2 swans trumpeted to fly out north With heralding whoops and bright eyed splashes The others drew out and formed a runway To lead them straight to green, open tundra But zeal can often be the trap of fools As in their sweet romance they flew madly And smacked themselves across a blind pylon... Continue Reading →
When all was quiet on the promenade, ‘cept for the sea, I gazed a dark thing down on the beach, Stranded like a road side tire, Its rubber shell broiling in the heat. Suddenly charged by the midday sun, A foot, a claw grinded into gear, Dragged, contorted and pulling away. Then a lizard... Continue Reading →