Hard disk,
My bisque.
Doc files,
Spread miles.
Drum Tunes,
Spiked dunes.
Surf gem,
Turf mem.
Tough chat,
Loved stat.
Pict list,
Deft mist.
Top space,
Set face.
Father Christmas was flirting with fate
On accepting for once a blind date
In the park on a bench
He sat waiting to quench
His desires but she was very late.
Snow was falling and that made it worse
This encounter was surely a curse
She turned up past mid night
Found him rigid and white
In a panic she called for a hearse!
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The Park Bench Christmas Contest
Hosted by Sara Kendrick ~ Pict. 3
© 4th December 2018
your elusive love
slips beyond my fragile grasp
shattered emotions
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Joined Soup on: 22 Feb 2014
Contest: Glass Art by Skat A
Inspired by Glass Heart pict.
NORTHERN ENGLAND
Steep hills and sudden
Gouged by ice, and water-formed -
This is no civilized landscape gentle
With demesne and orchard
And sun-kissed downland copses;
It is the terrain of warfare,
Of Northumbrian tearing at Scot,
Of Hadrian walling off the terrifying Pict,
Where the sea is held by Marsden’s cliffed face
And Cullercoats huddles in fear of a storm.
.................................................................
Other poems of mine, similar to this, are available at
https://www.fictionmagazines.com/magazines/five/
Flame in hearts,
Kissing me in the rain,
Tranquilised.
On Pict #2
Craving for harbour,
Kiss of life in the rain,
Enigma unveils.
On pict#4
Seized my umbrella ,
Kissing me in the rain,
Trust exhausted.
On pict #4
Three haikus
I got ripped
Then I tripped
Not the one you call a stumble
Read the script
Then I flipped
We were headed for a rumble
First I kicked
And got nicked
My mind was in a jumble
She was red lipped
And unzipped
She took me for a tumble
She was a Pict
That I picked
An ancient kind of people
Scot and Gael
Pict and Brit
Even Cymru
Thrive in grit
No Back up
Not a bit
‘tis Celtic
Stubborn
Writ.
Fired in adversity
Tempered in
Ice cool
Deliberation
Honed in
Tribal
Code
One with
Earth Mother
Ever on call
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