Saturday, 12 November 2011
A funny word flies out before
they laugh – and springs towards the sun.
Let them chase it through a door,
pant and run.
Chortling, away it bounds,
giggles as it leaps along,
ringing like a bell, it sounds
a tinkling song.
Hightail as it flies away,
belly laugh – before they weep;
working magic through the dayand then we sleep.
Wednesday, 9 November 2011
Monday, 7 November 2011
Scrutinizing letters at a board,
can I find a pattern for the most
letters, words and spaces in a twist:
pen inside my mouth to stop the world?
But no - no no, my consonants and vowels
confabulate a shuffled sanity,
click and land, enough, imperfectly:
when nuts are out – stop hammering the shell.