Pretty dreadful poetry...

Ghost

Whistling and wailing came the wind,
Its icy breath cooling blood and bones.
Its purpose is to warn those who’ve sinned
That the dead no longer lie beneath stones.

For they are coming to terror the souls
Of those who’ve forgotten others.
By cheating neighbours and stealing coals
And wives off their brothers.


Ode to the Megabus
O how often do you serve me?
You never fail to find me
The cheapest seat to London town
For the equivalent of half a crown.


As I rush to get to Colston Hall
The panic rises and I fill with concern
At the thought that you may have gone
And left me on the street all alone.

But as I turn the corner I see
That magnificent and mighty vessel,
Resplendent in empirical blue
Frowning with determination.

To deliver thou passengers on time.
Immediately my pulse does slow
As my heart does know
That I can rest within thy cosy belly.



Home

Home is the warmth that makes my face
Tingle as soon as I cross the threshold.

Home is the delicious aromas
Of aromatic spices and onion.

Home is my mother trying to stir a huge
Vat of runnerbean chutney as it spits on her ontop of the aga.

Home is the sound of disgruntles then excited dogs
As they bark with irritation at being disturbed and then in welcome.

Home is the bitter-sweet taste as I tentatively
Take a spoonful of bubbling hot chutney.


Rhyming is so hard!!!
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I want my bed,
Oh what to do?

I still have more
Poems to write.
So I am sure
To be up all night.


Snow Paralysis
The roads are in chaos
The schools are all closed.
As temperatures plummet
Soon we’ll have frozed.

“Let’s run to the shops
And buy lots of soup
Because soon we won’t
Manage to get out the coop.”

Gordon Brown says he’s doing
Everything in his power.
But still we are hindered
By one huge snow shower!






[/u] The Constant Gardener
I scrunch clumps of granuated earth
And push it aside
As I squeeze my burden through
And along my endless tunnel.

Then amidst the odour of clay and damp
A new aroma tickles my snout.
I shoot out my tongue
And snaffle a plump, juicy worm.

I continue my quest
Not knowing what for
Or where it will end
But that I must continue.

With my next scrape
I encounter no resistance
As I pull back a handful
And am blinded by light.