oh, cauliflowers


oh, cauliflowers ( srewolfiluac ,ho )

when the dusted speckled hen

spots the rusted lion’s den

when the evening spiral’s fly

spiders weaving in y’ eye

when the tartan garden lark

snarks a bark – & harken – hark

then the piffle pigeons roar

– all the little piglets soar

( author notes )

the picture is some runner beans

none of these trees are trees


none of these trees are trees

( a few lines based on a daft idea that’s probably real as well )

all is not what it seems

none of these trees are trees

no, these trees are drama students

or were before the breeze

changed its course out the blue

as breezes often do

they're compelling yet quite wooden

let not these trees fool you