Please Mrs Butler
This boy Derek Drew
Keeps copying my work, Miss.
What shall I do?
Go and sit in the hall, dear.
Go and sit in the sink.
Take your books on the roof, my lamb.
Do whatever you think.
......
Not, exactly, green:
closer to bronze
preserved in kind brine,
something retrieved
from a Greco-Roman wreck,
patinated and oddly
muscular. We cannot
know what his fantastic
......
Veiling, barely, his dread
Beauty and its blaze,
An angel sets warm bread
and cool milk at my place.
His eyelids make the sign
Of prayer; I lower mine,
Words interleaving vision:
--Calm, calm, be ever calm!
Feel the whole weight a palm
Bears upright in profusion.
......
I.
I dream of you walking at night along the streams
of the country of my birth, warm blooms and the nightsongs
of birds opening around you as you walk.
You are holding in your body the dark seed of my sleep.
II.
This comes after silence. Was it something I said
......
And when, in the city in which I love you,
even my most excellent song goes unanswered,
andI mount the scabbed streets,
the long shouts of avenues,
and tunnel sunken night in search of you...
That I negotiate fog, bituminous
rain rining like teeth into the beggar's tin,
or two men jackaling a third in some alley
weirdly lit by a couch on fire, that I
......
Jack Horner was an impish little boy, who lived on Cherry Orchard farm;
That produced varieties of fruit. For a mellowing sun, kept groves warm.
The Horners had always been a serious set-no nonsense, like spring rain;
And tried to teach their son responsibility, like time's jewels that remain.
But, alas, it was a big challenge, with hilarious grasshoppers in the hall!
Sent early to bed, he laughed long, the way you only laugh, when small.
Friends came face-to-face on fun Fridays, as February fled into summer,
......
Dear reader,
There's no difference between
a SchiZ poem or a Lee-Ann poem
They all from the same mind
As they come from the hands
Of a humble poet
Too shy to speak of her real name
And frightened by the welfare office
Finding out that she is intelligent
And capable of writing beautifully
......
Elsie Marley was a playful, middle child, with five sparkling siblings,
Living on emerald, Willow Brook Farm, underneath skies very citron.
Everyone in the family lent a hand, at skillfully managing their farm.
At twelve years old, Elsie joined in, like golden bees, flower charmed.
Every fleeting day was the same as the last, yet magically different;
Like when a rainbow touches jade grass, and blazing sun is imminent.
Fantastic friends made school days fun, in the flitting, youthful hours;
......
I was a celebrated, professional psychic, offering glimpses of rosy future;
And helping people work through problems, like pink moon, come sooner.
I had learnt to talk with the spirits, and also relate what they were saying,
To the ones left loving and lingering, like peach rose on jade vine, swaying.
Although the certitude of ESP is often debated, some people do possess it;
Like the mysterious biennial appearance of Mars, to plum skies, so scarlet.
I had long painted for a hobby, and lovely colors had ever fascinated me;
......
For those of you who seek success in every job or post, these are the points you should address before you brag or boast.
In mind you need a VISION and a clear healthy dream, not just a hopeless story or a dreadful faulty scheme.
Start by laying a PLAN and set a final goal,
not just waste your precious time on thoughts you can’t control.
Share your ideas with people and learn to love your team,
it is only with PASSION you’ll achieve your final dream.
......