I heard a shallow, wheezing breath
It scared me nearly half to death!
The squinting moon did shelter sight;
The switch, I dared not reach for light.
So cowered beneath shaking sheet,
I worried so with no relief.
As panting sounds grew closer still,
I wished myself by windowsill,
So to escape tormentor’s groans,
But frozen stiff I stalled alone.
Then cover to my bed did lift
And curl into a ball did shift,
Where trembling I awaited death,
But all I got was doggy breath?
For panting friend had given fright,
As all things seem worse in the night.
(Image courtesy Michelle Marie)
Snow White petals dipped in pink,
Watercolours melting together.
How delicate your charms
Unfolded in tender anticipation,
Perhaps, at my passing,
But more likely the sun’s.
A moment of colour,
Pastels set in emerald beds beautifying the landscape,
You blaze whilst you can.
And it worries me,
Troubles me that this may be so!
That soon you will diminish,
And the world be lesser for it.
Then, I look closer,
Spying your kin in bud waiting to take over,
I breathe again.
There was a desperate hollering
From the woman I was following
As her stiletto got stuck in a hole
So I rescued that lady
By the name of O’Grady
Whilst I snuck a quick peep of her mole
It was high on her thigh
When it caught my rogue eye
And almost a little bit more
But I’m just not the type
If you’ll believe all this tripe
Who’d ogle a girl on the floor
I ended the melodrama
Like a night in bright armour
By pulling her free in mid rant
But the truth’s not so pure
As she’d lost her allure
When I’d seen the size of her pants
Festooned in purple
Atop prickly stem,
I like to look
But not touch them.
For draw me in
Just like a bee,
They seek to stab
Their thorns in me!
Thistle by name,
They’re Scotland’s pride,
Although they’ve wandered
Far and wide
To point of barring
My morning run;
Yet faster still
When catch on one.
I’ll meet again
When running back
With less surprise
From thistle attack.
Unless they’ve strayed
To different path,
Then I may reroute
And stop being daft?