SPINY prickles hiding in the
HEDGE silently, sneakily
STUNG me, and now, freakily, I’m
BEGINning to feel them
Author: Mike Crowl
Shared tasks – not
IRON Your own shirt, honey. I
WAIVE it over to you. Now there’s no
BASIS for saying, when I
VAPORIZE it, that it’s all my fault.
La danza
Feet like FLINT,
Arms that FLAIL,
Head like a HAZEL
Nut, learning the RUMBA.
Ambiguous
He’d hardly
BEGUN to grow when he found himself fully-
GROWN. Time and tide waited not for this
UNCLE, the one who was considered the
SAFER relative, the one who never did any harm.
Larch
LARGE larch, back of the garden, seems to be
LEECHing sap, sadly. I don’t see it as tears, I
SHIRK the pseudo-simile. The leeching leaves a
MUDDY mess midst the searing scarlet tulips.
Simple is as simple does
COVER me quickly,
AUDIT my speech, you
ENDOW me with blessings, sweet bird, through your
TWEETs.
‘Doughnut’ preferred
Does it
RECUR to you – or even occur to you – that I’m acting
SHYLY because while you eat your
DONUT – your sometimes spelt ‘doughnut’ – you
GNASH your teeth. How is that even possible?
Two attempts, both pathetic
I’m finding it hard to write a poem GAILY;
the words all seem pathetic and TRITE,
the opposite of being in the bounteous spaces of a HAREM,
more like trying the thickest dough to KNEAD.
Icky IKEA
UNIT-Y in the IKEA range is causing me
GLOOM, a gloom looming, a slippery slope, both
TROPEs for a panic attack, the polar opposite of a
LEMUR’s calm in his natural Madagascan state.
Bertha in charge
BERTHa was a pirate with a great big pirate’s
CHEST – of treasure. She’d oft berate her saucy mates with
LOFTY views, which would state treasure chests were Bertha’s, and
FEIGN what you like, or grate your teeth, you’d never see a piece of real estate.