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Daily Poem #12 Improbable Index …

AA sells manual for drivers

Abridged for coping with

Accidents and other assorted

Adventures. Take flying with

Aeroflot for example, an adventure and no mistake.

After all, it's not just

Agricultural workers who say

Ah-Ah!!! when denied first

Aid in an emergency especially when the door is left

Ajar: a trip hazard if ever there was one, and injury ensues. It's

Akin to exchanging

Aluminium hydroxide (toothpaste ???) for

Ammonium peroxide, which not sensible on the whole. Moving on – best remain

Anonymous, or only raise the issue of coherence under

AOB which is

Apparently essential if you wish to

Aquire a reputation for sobriety. Best

Arrive early for the meeting, to be

Assured of having your

Attendance recorded in the minutes. Next: Please don't

Augment your stature in any way. Safer to be

Average in every department. Otherwise an

Awful dendroligist will take an

Axe to your cherry tree a la Geoge Washington. However, speaking of the

Ayatollah, and let's imagine we WERE, did you know his favourite shade of blue was

AZURE?!!

 

THE END

 

 

 

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Daily Poem #10 Book-Worming

Ain't I A Woman

Alpine Flowers

And God Created Woman

A Short Walk in the Hindu Kush

A Vision of Eden

Begin With The Heart

Catechism of the Catholic Church

Conducting Small Scale Investigations in Education

Cotswold Walks

Courtesans and Fishcakes

Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Field Guide To Fynbos

Holidays In Hell

In An Antique Land

Job And The Mystery of Suffering

Labyrinth

Leo The African

Mountain Flowers of Cascades and Olympics

O'Henry's Short Stories

Penguin's Poems For Life

Power Evangelism

Robert Graves Poems Selected By Himself

Song of the Dodo

The Art of Calligraphy

The Consice Oxford Dictionary

The Days Are Just Packed

They Didn't Walk Far

The Faber Book of 20th Century Poetry

The Ship That Flew

What's That Bird

Warning!

Wild Flowers

Wild Flowers of Cyprus

Wild Flowers of Table Mountain

Women's Weekly Cookbook


Look, I cook, a bit, and rather well

If I may say so, and I get about a lot

(Though sometimes, only in my head

Through the books I read.)

I have a faith, and sometimes I remember to follow it.


A poet.

And a Mistress (Shakespeare!)

With a Masters

And a penchant for American

Literature which I studied in my Teens

And Twenties.


Let me loose in a wood

On a hillside or

Up a mountain and –

Afterwards –

I'll turn from you, and I think you know

Who you are,

And teach the flowers their names.



 

Daily Poem #9 Knowing When To Stop (Or Not …)

 

I drove unthinking

Past a stop sign –

Deep, deep, into the desert.

 

I sat beside self-pity and said

How much better it would be

Were I Young and Beautiful

 

Heartless

 

Rich

 

And

 

Powerful.

 

(Even self-pity laughed!)

 

Well, the tears came.

And they were sweet. So sweet.

You see, I have been in the desert.

I have

 

Lain

Beneath brilliant skies.

 

Drowned in silence.

 

Found myself

 

Discovered my true Name

 

And – when you were asleep –

I whispered it to you.

 

 

I learned that it is not

The Hopes, Dreams, Lovers

That are gone, that matter,

 

But what remains:

 

Something very precious

Neither guarded nor owned.

 

And

 

Not quite understood.

 

 

Daily Poem#7 Tritina

28th October 2015

Have you noticed how the colour of the morning is yellow

Now that the days are shorter and the sun hangs low in the sky?

I mention this because it is Wednesday, and my birthday.

 

Become sixty-five or pass it, or call it every birthday

Deem it necessary to remember days like this one, warm and yellow

HDare enough to venture out alone beneath an empty sky.

 

Befriend solitude, a sense not of this century or beneath this sky;

Watch silence gleam on the wind-lapped lake. Whisper, savour, “Birth-Day.”

Receive as a gift this quiet wood wrapped in green, and brown and yellow

 

This yellow day, this quiet sky, this awesome present. My birthday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Daily Poem #6 Nathan

On Gloucester Cross: Nathan.

Dressed by the Salvation Army, fed

By City Mission, sits

Wasted.

Maybe it’s the drugs that make him simple.

 

I think not. I think he has always been a child.

 

Once, his sister took him in, but I guess he wore her out.

He claims no family now.

It’s no fun, being an addict.

 

“Where?” I ask, “Are you sleeping, Nathan?”

 

“Car Park. Off Westgate Street.”

 

Until, I guess, an upright citizen, with a full belly,

Complains. Or drunken party-goers piss on him.

 

I think about this, often. There are people who

Stop in sympathy with a pound or a sandwich

And there are people who piss on him.

 

I am guessing, because you have read this far,

That you are not one of those.

 

 

 

 

 

Daily Poem #5 Blooming Nonsense

Poke a hole in a poet’s soul and just LOOK at what tumbles out!

Toadflax

Day’s-eye

Nightshade

Flag

 

Love In A Mist

Fritillary

Cornflower

Hop

 

Heartsease

Sweet Peas

 

Buttercup

Fat Hen

 

Dock.

 

Lady’s Slipper

Lady’s Mantle

Granny’s Bonnet

Foxglove

 

Stock

 

Skullcap

Monkshood

Bluebell

Snowdrop.

 

Dandelion

Pis-En-Lit

Wet-the-bed

Forget-Me-Not

 

STOP!

 

 

Daily Poem #4 Eliot’s An Idiot

Eliot's an idiot

If he thinks April stinks.


I like April.

I get to write poems

Tapping away without a care in the world beyond

Scaring a metaphor out of hiding

Finding a a rhyme

(Which is as easy as tickling a simile

Out of my stream of consciousness )

Lending an ear to assonance and

Holding a meter to ransom.


Oh yes!


It's Good. All good.




 

Daily Poem #3 “Fan Mail”

Playing with a Concrete Poem …

 

 

God’s Wonderful Railway

This train, just two coaches
Rattles and clangs through my lovely country
Where the green summer hills roll voluptuously across the
Greener landscape with soft woods
That do not spike and shade like yours –
But filter sunlight and harbour flowers of
Many generous hues.

I walked here so many years ago
With my lover, or maybe yesterday –
It depends on how his imagination works,
And whether we will always contain each other in
Our lazy hearts.