My Friday is Blue Through and Through

It’s Midwinter and somehow fitting

That it only reached 14C

The grey endless rain

Again fulfilled a wintery dream

Somewhere behind

The full moon beams

Waiting for chinks in cloudy curtains

Cracks to spy through

To catch humans watching TV

He’s as close as he’s going to get

Will do his voyeuristic best

To raise the tides high tonight

Erode all wintery scenes




What poetry doesn’t get washed off my back

Settles under my skin

Creating green irruptions of envy

I doubt my words cause others

To break out in hives of jealousy

For I am but a hack writer

Reading others in awe




This morning it is all forgot

I am a poetess

Amongst the best of poets

I preen my feathers

Admire myself in the mirror

Who’s a pretty girl then?





Pulsing beat



Oozing out


Much pain

Ebbs back

Flows again

Tide of life

Wasting away


The drain


Copyright June 2013