Trundled Poems | Examples

The Epitome quest

He stepped forward
-Invisible
Slowly dissipated in rhythm with word
She looked around
Searching for a plausible cause

An overly pronounced Ahh
punctuating his appearance
A wry smile trundled across his lips

-there is power in words

and I am Float
and you are Epitome

Someone has stolen a word
and we need you to find it
The only problem no one knows what it is….

Why float, a look of question frowning on her face

I created it-he replied it’s actually my first one
He carried on
We have three days
By that time you need to choose

Choose.choose what, she asked

The words you need on your quest
Courage has volunteered
We can’t find fear
and Whimsy is chasing a butterfly in a field

alent sho

He trundled his way up the three heavy steps
His mop of hair searching every direction
In the middle of the stage a brash spotlight
shone on a large drum kit
Behind a curtain dangled over a hand painted sign
The burgundy curtains partially
covering the letters making it look like alent sho

The boy now seated behind the kit dwarfed by its side.
He adjusted his seat slightly, closed his eyes and
took a breath
The crowds murmurs abruptly cut by some drunks
sloshed repartee -Hey.kid you, a belch breaking his sentence-forgot your sticks
With a tiiter of some of the onlookers
The young boy slowly opened his eyes
A tear slowly rolled down his pale cheeks
Swaying from his chin for a moment
before falling
It meandered along the cymbal's it’s tremor almost melodically before snapping upon the snare
Each tear falling in perfect formation
No beat missed a methodical beat
One after another
The silence of the audience
mesmerised by his music
He played with such sadness
The tears of those watching only adding to his symphony

Striking Striking the Only Way

People know the costs sky high.' In France and Britian
By and by.' 35% at least we've swallowed so far; no
Such qualms in the plan-demic, to get cash in the jar.'
Your footsloggers gov. You trundled them out with
Saucepans banging roundabout.' Was that an occult?
Nod? Owning their spirits, touting your clout.? We've
Seen it all the lies heaping up, professionals suffering
Raise a shout! balance and order; are needed no doubt.'
Yet thats not whats wanted, in the robbers lairs.'
Its control and delusions; the daily fare..its corruption
And disgrace..And there in your face..Give it up for the
Medics snd the stand they now make.'

Drumfire Roars To Silence

A dense sky-rubble
trundled and spilled above the rooftops
a runaway thunder ground along unseen tracks,
a near salvo rocking mind-cradles,
then a muted detonation over a far off
storm bruised landscape.

The tumult cracked and sizzled-
leaden were the rayless shades.

I returned home in the nick of
a dispersing moment.

The house seemed crouched,
ceilings low and cowering;
a living-space quashed by a heavy hand
rooms sheltering from the weight of imminent
upheaval.

I paused for the searing glare of lightning
yet a deepening gloom
sparked no ignition nor flash;
only a pressing portent of menace.

Then as rapid as the booming
onslaught arrived
the heavens broke open,
gravity expelled a lighter breath
to rise ballooning into an airy light.

All who huddled beneath that cacophony
sighed now in shamed relief
a prayer unspoken upon their lips.

I did not leave my dwelling that day
until my timid tabby cat
bravely led the way.

Valentine's Day Always Found Me Aquiver 2nd Heartfelt Hug

at the growing flock
including male friends relatives,
minus yours truly, whose presence,
would merely generate a yawn,
though even a distinct black swan
received royal carpet treatment
particularly one named Shawn
encompassing another honorable guest

with illustrious surname Rawn
guests underwritten by Cupid,
whose presence surreptitiously withdrawn
(invitations distributed widely explained,
just beak cuz gerrymandering redrawn)
even provoking deer interest
of stray doe eyed fawn
hence lacking bravado and brawn

this bird den some seedy,
yet dove out crow kissing Avocet
trundled off to parts unknown you bet
far from boys stir russ, raw cuss, diss cuss
ting clacking clique, and thus this solitary fret
full ostracized, rejected, unwanted egret,
who heron there experienced many a let

down, not simply because of stork disparity
with the Aves and havenots, 
but I never met
any other species so set
in their ways, hence off
on a wing and prayer
in search of other buoys and gulls,
whom this dodo bird they will coe vet!

Dawn Walk

Cannot sleep,
have to walk through the dark,
the unlit rain.

Sunup arrives
trundled out by harnessed clouds.

For a melting moment
liquid flamingos dance across
a shimmering horizon.

The new sky roams around
for a while
adrift in its painted landscape,

then it slips through a gap in the fence,
gleams out 
on wet unfolding wings.

Dawn Walk

cannot sleep
have to walk through the dark
to find myself

Sunup arrives
trundled out by painted clouds

for a melting instant
flamingos dance across
a shivering horizon

the day will warm its face
by thawing its smoky breath
on the back of a sleeping groundhog
by running bare
through creaky bushes

after all it is summer
the drizzle
will soon stop seeping
from new filled lakes

dry its sodden dreams
on drowsy leafage

the new sky roams around
for a while
adrift in its shadow landscape

then it slips through a gap in the fence
gleaming out 
startled by its own revealing

The Last Train To Auschwitz

Brown and worn
She slowly trundled, 
Carrying the tattered and torn
Clutching their bundle.
She leans to the right
And then the left,
In that pitiful night
Laying sleepers bereft.
All her metal and carriage
Held a thousand souls
Between their marriage
Of  her red hot coals.
And the wooden doors weep
The iron locks, hold their breath
While she screeches on 
In her role of death.

Growth Amongst Glass

Life is a train, with a turbulent trot, with rickety paths, veering off quite a lot,
But once in reflection, I suddenly see, that every crevice fallen has made me, me.
So, I am proud, of what has been cultivated from neglect, abuse and hurdles; something solid and sound,
Punishment made me kind, sadness made me smile, and cultured an attitude and ethos to go the extra mile,
After a long time distilling I suddenly found, my lemons became lemonade, I could feel the comfort of my feet now unbound.

Life is a flower, with seasons of highs and lows,
Blemishes and colour fades but an assurity of growths,
Of colour and opportunity in this cyclical cycle, 
A promise of potential amongst the tangled roots, blurred vision of hope, survival.

Life is to be lived, not trundled along,
Not passive nor obligated, full of wonders and adventures life-long.
So my message to you, and any alike,
Is no matter your path covered, make your next steps dreamlike.

Whiskey and Philosophy

One tall and gaunt with hooded eyes
The other bearded, bent, time-worn and wise
They relished unfurling their intellectual sails
To seek secrets of wisdom on ancient gales

Two wizened old philosophers in a huddled conspiracy
They picked through the bones of archaic mythology
Pondered the tomes of scholars of yore
Then fleshed out the virtues of masters of lore

They sniffed out the dragons of hateful hypocrisy
Harangued and railed against heinous heresy
Decried the dogmatist's intolerant curse
Then like poets esteemed they trundled through verse

Their furrowed cheeks glowed as the whiskey flowed
Voices gravelled and slurred as their logic blurred
They fumbled and mumbled, weary and weaving
As the dying embers of day, dropped into evening

With their feverish fervour fully feted
They stumbled into the night, agreeably sated!

Trundling Along

Fields swayed with golden rye
As on my bike, I trundled by.
A gentle breeze cooled my brow
As I passed some languid cows.

Some lay down, chewing cud
Some sought shade, where they could.
The searing sun stilled the air
On I rode, without a care. 

Through the sun drenched countryside
Immersed in nature on my ride.
Sweet sweet music, cheered me on
As little birds sang me a song.

Then a fisherman I past,
His arms aloft in hopeful cast.
On gossamer line his fly sped out
A tempting morsel for a trout.

I gave a wave, then on I went
The sun beat down without relent.
But oh, the joy of a cycle ride
Through the English countryside.

No fairer day could be had
What could a heart be, but glad
To trundle verdant country lanes
On and on, in happy vein.

Hand Grown In Thyme

Hand Grown In Thyme.

On Brummie Sea and Burnley oak,
In bearded wood and clove
I hidey in this Mutton cloth
That strangles like a choke.

Lampooned upon this Ferris wheel,
A chuckle for a hoot.
I swung with empty boxing glove
And knocked a joke aboot.

I thank you from my Uncles chin
And dear old Auntie Pat
Who did asunder to a sin
And dogged her pussycat!

They trundled stubborn as a toe
And caring not a care
Sent humphing parties to and fro
Though knew not who they were.

‘Bejees!’ I crippled all a goat
What finery I’ve found,
Four friends in foursome charging free-
A bargain at a pound.

‘Well fancy that,’ a woman sat,
And bending like a river
Weaved not a spell but nasty smell
And sent me all a quiver.

‘How come you like to gape alewd?’
I asked but half an inch.
To which the Lady took a fence
And hit me with a pinch.

A Little Bit of Slackjaw

Twas wooden, and my Ivy stick
Did claggy with a cobbled tone.
The moon, in shade rode whimsy high
And whiffled with a moan.

By hairy dog and camel toe
I trundled on and farted,
By gum and skinny teeth I went
Unshaven and wholehearted.

Hag I not seen but in a girth
A womb of some renown-
A creature from some other Earth
Not cream, yet still not brown.

I wooden, with my Ivy stick
And waving with a fist
Fought on with friendly foe in tow
For valour, kin and Kist.

Nursery Rhyme - the Hunkydory Bear

I will tell a funny story of a bear that's hunkydory
How 'e lives a life of comfort in a pickle on a tree
When the summer comes 'e fishes, an' 'e eats 'em off o' dishes
Till the day 'e ran in 'orror from 'is shadow on the sea

So 'e trundled of gallumphing, till 'e couldn't run for 'uffing
And 'e settled down in Puddington where honeyed puddings grow
There 'e lived a life so royal, till his dream began to spoil
For 'e longed to have a mamma bear with cubby bears in tow

'E trotted to the pickle-tree, that shady spot beside the sea
An' asked about if any knew his fav'rite childhood chum
'Is special bear at last 'e found, and knelt upon the berry-ground
An' there besought if she would be a wifey bear and mum

A mummey bear she'd gladly be, she'd mend 'is clothes and make 'is tea
And have as many fuzzy bairns as God saw fit to bless
So off they went to Pudding Town, the bear and wife, now Mrs. Brown
Which place they 'ad their little bairns, and lived in 'appiness


First place in Nursery Rhyme contest.

My Dear Grandmother

My dear grandmother

One nigth while I was sleeping
I got a sad telephonemessage

I got up fast
The tears just trundled down my cheeks

The message I got was that you had passed away
It happened so incredibly fast

I have cried for several months
All the tears for you
Hope that some of you still are here with me

Now, I have no grandmother to talk with
For your heart stopped
Why was it your turn to let the soul leave your body

Life needs to move on
The dead, they have to be honored
I will never be able to forget you
I let the memories be hidden


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Dedicated to my dear grandmother (1935-2011)

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