Spider

The Spider weaves its magic web
Across the window of my mind
As I wait here indefinitely
For something to happen.
Spider knows no time
Or boundaries
Just keeps spinning
Like the tales you spin
Every time I ask you where you've been.
My eyes transfix
Upon the web woven there
As I watch
It becomes entangled in my hair
And I no longer have the desire to move
Or try to break away.
I am wrapped in Spider's stick web
Cocooned
No longer holding my breath
No longer breathing
Gossamer eases the pain
My heart stops.

The Feather Duster

Shocking Pink
Extrovert
Yet you hide away
When the cleaning lady calls.

When she's gone -
You creep out with me
And we party
All around the house.

You coil cobwebs
Like shimmering bathrobes
Around your tempting feathers,
You love to linger in dark places
No other eyes will see.

Sometimes -
On family days,
You pretend to be a Pirate's cutlass
Or the broomstick of a Witch.
And once,
You were a Magic Wand,
Weaving spells of dreaming spires
And fairies
That only live in Angel's dreams.

Cecil

This quiet morning light
Shines harsh into my eyes
And wakes me from my sleep.
I know when first awake
All is well and calm
And then awareness seeps
Into my mind.

This quiet morning light
Betrays my peace
I realise the depths of my grief
For you are gone
And I burn for you.

Oak Tree

You wear the field around you
Like a gown of mud
Which flows away from your gnarled knee-caps.
The hem of your gown
Is the sparkle in the stream
Which is stitched around your feet.

Your fingers reach skyward
And wave to the stars at night
Frightening the children
In their stories of witches on broomsticks.
'These are no broomsticks,' you sigh.
'It's just me waiting for new Spring garlands
To deck my old cold branches
With light green,
Bright green colours.'

My mind boggles at the thought
Of all you've seen,
All you've heard and known
As the centuries have flown -
This muddy field -
Was it once a meadow?
Or perhaps there are traces of a hamlet,
Homes now sunken into the Earth.

Did children sing in your outstretched arms -
Sit on your bony knee-caps and play,
Their chubby fingers finding Acorns
In your hair -
Trip around on the hem of your gown,
Washing their feet in the sparkle there?

That was yesterday

That was yesterday
When we were young.
We didn't know then
What it would be like now -
What being old is or could be.
We were afraid of reaching such an age.
But now -
Here we are
And not so much has changed.
We still live and still love
And feel the pain of loss.
The world moves a little faster
But we don't get left behind.
We can run as fast as you
We've learnt ways
To keep ahead of the game -
And when it's no longer important to try -
We know how to let go.

Shower Gel is another Kettle of Fish

Soap smells nice
Rose, Geranium, Vanilla,
Honey I washed the kids soap,
Honey-combed top and yellow soap.
Keeps you clean
Dries out your skin
Makes you smell.

Pump-actioned bottled soap
Cream soap
Soap on a Rope soap
Moisturising
Tantalising
Not quite cleansing soap
Coal tar scrub soap
Memories of school soap
Wash your mouth out soap.

Lying in a long soak
Fine and precious soap
Hide in the cupboard
High up on a shelf
Just to keep you all to myself.

Shower gel is another kettle of fish
Creamy and divine
Exotically named -
Asian, Chocolate, or Arabian Dream
At only forty-eight pence
I leave you all around the bath
To encourage my family to keep clean.

Catchphrase poem

"Penny for your thoughts," she said
As we sat beside the lake
Holding hands in trepidation
Waiting for the storm to break.

Well, I wasn't being funny now -
Though it seemed so at the time.
"Basically, at the end of the day -
Like - everything's just fine
And dandy - so to speak, you know,"
And gazed into her eyes.
"I was just having a senior moment then
But didn't realise."