an hour after patting down the earth


Trains on the floor of your room

it would have found you, brushed
itself against your leg, plopped
down in the middle of the track. 

‘Mi-Yeow alive Daddy?’

You button your lip
hold deep breaths in your belly
and stare at the memory
of a bag in the ground.

Twenty minutes
on my lap
you hold back

my explanations.  Look up
occasionally, ask my eyes for

a change in the situation.

Until Mummy walks in 
and your whirring little mind
lets your heart burst
all your sadness.

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Ladybird Apples

 

How should you ask?
Apple please Daddy
Hand a Royal Gala

from the fridge.
No Ladybird, Ladybird!

Do you mean Pink Lady?
Yup.
Snatch

Thank you

 

Tiggy Johnson has set me a challenge to write some children pieces.  I don’t know if this is poetry but I couldn’t help write it.

On a hunt for my face

He commando crawls tiled hallway
in search for something new

to stick in his mouth.  Peers around
office door frame, grin creeping. 

I’m blind; screen vision.  
Bald head drops, lunges

over arms.  Stops, looks up;
with eyes the size of calling out.  A noise

swivels my head; wriggles
a smile to his toes.