Saturday 8 November 2008

Lost keys

Keys lost
Amongst this frost
Hickup, burp and pardon
I cant sleep in the garden!

Tis too early to find the shops
Tis too late to call the cops
Perhaps I’ll break the door
Or sleep in the garage floor

I’m sure I saw a dead spider
But then again, there is more cider…
My stomach’s groaning I need food!
I cant wake people up – it’s rude!

Must find keys
To let me in
Need my toast and a warm tea
Plus now I need a pee!

Cleanse you

Not entirely happy with this one... another work-in-progress:

Wistful within a gin filled glass
To find a cure for your disease
Or find the cloth to cleanse your pain
A potion for your heart
To cleanse the clummy sticky mess
Undo the knot within excess
And free the dirty stress
That attached itself within your heart
Entwined it’s way through the barbs I left
Clinging to your walls and surface
Of what at last may once will be clean
And sparkling warm and filled
With my own reflection thrilled.