Poetry

although – the acrostic

…

a nswers arrived on postcards
apples fell on you
l etters never sent still came
line dancers went full circle
t he garden centre flourished
toadstools croaked
h illtop views subdued us all
harold burnt the hot cross buns
o pen sandwiches saved the day
offa renamed his p.c ditch
u kelelists struck a chord
unicyclists graduated
g olden pheasants shone
gnomes scratched noses
h ippos fled the mud bath
hellcats went to heaven

…

oh lofty one

…

your sunken afternoon
came far too sodding soon
if you’re a neutron star
then i’m a minor moon

your blissful sun kissed beach
has crabs & sinking sand
or so to sausage speak
your blossom zen is bland

i’d rather ride atop
a wooden rocking chair
than wander in the blank
of your phantastic there

where khaos only knells
a distant, milksop bell
but nature flaps ‘n’ kens
that all too feathered well

the haunted laughter in
the restless woods & that
the dawdles of the loons
the spoons, the stupid twats

is freer than the ice
the frozen plod in thy
the formless, yawning storm
behind your prudent eye

as panting pantomime’s
a field, a frog, a horse
another sort of muse
another obtuse force

…

beyond the vale

…

on the other side
of the hill that
r o l l s

like a granary bap
or a wholemeal
b l o o m e r

is another valley’s green
a new dream
t i c k e t

the odd smallholding
gritstone
b r i c k e d

but mostly more fields
& the drystone
w a l l s

the scattered woodland copses
where pheasants strut their
s t u f f

as the ewes baa back
at the oak tree’s
b a r k

& starlit badgers wonder what
life is like for us
b u m p k i n s

…

( of a formless morning )

…

backwards barks again
a backdoor key

cartoon rudiments
cloven hoofed clover

a zoomorphic moon
with rain in between

an ache in my right leg
a lake in your left eye

the day became frogs
human cattle banging pots

remember the moos
& the chalkboards thank yous

& irk the normalz off
of a formless morning

on is reverse
we the scattered ash

& quercus quilled ink
still the unbecome

melted into fundaments
rearranged yesterday

grew a green tomorrow
ate baked magic

beans on toast for tea
with grated cheese on top

…

although – a poem

…

although
the butler saw him last
although
it smells of pickled eggs
although
the sun rose quietly
although
the gob nextdoor misheard
although
the dinosaurs got bored
although
the eggless omelette vanished
although
the breeze turned left
although
chest down & stomach full
although
i was only breathing
although
the cloud came running
although
the wing commander fell
although
the post was late again
although
the poet’s plot was lost
although
the skeleton’s key was found
although
this toast is overdone
– although, although, although

…