Bee

The bee with the black armbands

has it in for me

he is mourning his mate from the other day

who I sent into eternity

*pic courtesy of pinterest

Birth

I feel a poem coming on, you say

as if you are giving birth

& perhaps you are

it’s been growing inside you for weeks

it is time it came out

perhaps then we’ll get some sleep

& you will settle

A Flash of Fluoro

Down by the lake I was swooped by a flash of fluoro, orange and greens, a rainbow lorikeet; makes a change from the monochrome of magpies

One Last Thing

so  you’ve got the poem down on the page and it’s looking good, just don’t forget: trim the nose hairs

Once I Was an Ostrich

Once I was an ostrich, cheeky and irreverent. But I had a habit of burying my head in sand. It was okay doing it in the desert but people did not take kindly to me burying my head in children’s sandpits. Now I realize I can be cheeky and irreverent without metamorphosing. My friend who also was an ostrich metamorphosed into roadkill when he chased a Greyhound  bus along the highway.