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Bush Wacker Poem
How did you find me?
Your probing toe seeks its fortune
Tries its luck in my diamond mine
Hi ho, hi ho, lets not go to work
Continue burrowing, my little mole,
My muncher of muff
By Helen and Anja
Copyright © Bush Wacker | Year Posted 2007
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Details |
Bush Wacker Poem
Mother
I know
The weeping was for effect
You can’t cry for anyone
But you
Can’t cry Selflessly?
No
I wish it wouldn’t spill so freely
Into my cold coffee
Bitter beyond
Sugars delightful enchantment
Bad taste
Oh lord
It spills from your mouth
Morals straight from the alter
Send up a little message of hope
Jesus can lay his hands upon her
He cured that leper, restored to his prime
Flicked the switch for the blind man
The dead little girl dead no more
Wouldn’t we all prefer her path to run straight?
Pun intended, for humours sake
Are you angry, or merely scared?
Your own
You detest
Your heart
Can’t accept
Copyright © Bush Wacker | Year Posted 2007
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