“My Pet” – a poem
In a deep, dark cavern under my bed,
Amidst drips of sheets and craggy walls of toy boxes
My Pet lives, breathing, wise and thoughtful.
The dark excitement of him makes me tingle and squirm in my bed
After I’m tucked in.
Some days he is a hairy lion.
His eyes seams of soft contentment,
Velvet strength, his shield.
Supple ripples of breath break his slumber
And I feel brave.
Some days he is a scaly crocodile.
Calloused, cracked skin, unseeing eyes,
Teeth gleam a thin smile of warning,
Curve of tail poised like a lash
And I feel scared.
Some days he is a chattering monkey.
Honking and hollering,
Scattering and rummaging.
Upside down he hangs, cocking his chin, cheeky button eyes.
And I feel happy.
Some days he is a fat, floppy dog.
The deep globes of his dark eyes fix on me through long, white tresses,
Mournful and oh so silent.
Head resting listlessly on paws.
And I feel sad.
As I shuffle in my blankets
And chop my pillow with my head
And burrow down to sleep,
My Pet, senses alert, absorbs my silent voice,
And I am heard.
Limericks on world politics
The gutsy Frau Angela Merkel
Called a meeting of her inner circle
“My position is clear
We want refugees here
And if needed, yes, I’ll wear the burqa!”
That tough old boot Theresa May
Threw her hands up “Well! What can I say?
You won’t hear any sorries
You’re a total prick, Boris
And I’m glad you’ve resigned. On your way!”
A little-known Pacific nation
Disappeared one day under the ocean
And yet nothing was said
Because leaders had led
The whole world to this gruesome conclusion.
“The man with the budgie perched on his nose” – a poem
The man with the budgie
perched on his nose stood solemnly
under the broken neon sign,
still flickering,
like an injured rainbow,
while a naked splinter of light bore down
from above
carving through the tar-dark night
And in the lightning-strike
Of rays blue-white
Crashed a thought
“I am the refuge for a bird.”
And his lips forged
A long, deep, crevasse of a smile
That just for a while
Shone bright
Like the flash of a star
Of a wish come true
A homecoming from afar.
And the bird chirped a single note
And the darkness subsided
Notes of thanks – avian, human - collided
And for that moment
The world felt safe.
Infidelity – a mirror poem
An opening
That glow of a moment
As you slipped your fingers under my cupped palms
Staring into my green-wide, greed-lined eyes
Smiling
Unpicking my composure.
You sensed an animal chink in me
Without compunction.
I sensed your persistent, probing quest to lever me wide leaving me
Exposed and troubled
Like the skin of the baby in the stroller beside me
Devoid of protection from the sun.
I pulled my hand away,
My thumb fiddling with my wedding ring,
My heart closing down importunate thoughts
****
My heart closing down importunate thoughts,
My thumb fiddling with my wedding ring,
I pulled my hand away
Devoid of protection from the sun
Like the skin of the baby in the stroller beside me.
Exposed and troubled,
I sensed your persistent, probing quest to lever me wide leaving me
Without compunction.
You sensed an animal chink in me,
Unpicking my composure,
Smiling,
Staring into my green-wide, greed-lined eyes
As you slipped your fingers under my cupped palms,
That glow of a moment.
An opening.
The Animals’ Christmas Party – a poem containing a line that is an acronym of my full name
The elephants are trumpeting
A civet jig on rink
The snowballs in the ice-crisp air
Are flung by grinning chimps
The turkey-gorged orangutans
Down wine, flamingo pink
Whilst the tigers sipping gin slings
Are far too pissed to think.
Snowflake stars are shimmering
In puppy eyes aglow
And ostriches are shimmying
To party-song disco
Koala carol singers are
Drowned out by Status Quo
And the hippo’s snoring that
Crescendoes long and slow
The hyenas are wassailing
and causing quite a fuss
The fire ants wave their sparklers
Amidst the fairy dust
Harmonising Noels by
The carolling pandas
Wish creatures large and creatures small
A wonderful Christmas.
