Poem – Page 11 – Poetry for Dullards

138

I wrote this a while ago but it is one of my favourites. It brings people back to me who I miss very much. 138 Tucked away in an unassuming corner,The last entrance on the rightPast the cupboard where the bogey man livesThe westerly door stands invitinglyI ring the bell and wait for its woodenContinue reading “138”

Sunday Service

Night’s curtain lifts cautiously afraid of the scene that awaits The trill of the pigeon’s Sabbath chorale Will prove insufficient means to placate A disappointed deity Who is soundly being ignored By those congregating here yesterday as the pubs and the clubs closed their doors. The females in tiny clothing, the men with the strutContinue reading “Sunday Service”