The monster killed my brother and
torched DeLacey’s cottage.
He wants a companion.
Is that it?
They say he killed Clairbol,
will kill his new wife.
No, they’re wrong,
his sister is next,
and then Frankenstein will die.
I ask you, is the monster
Frankenstein or his creation?
Evil to kill children,
evil to kill,
evil to create a monster.
Polly Robinson © 2013
Promotional photo of Boris Karloff from The Bride of Frankenstein as Frankenstein’s monster. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Sorcery!
It bewitches the heart,
bewilders the head,
leads to where
good times are had.
Delusions of clarity,
[thoughts of parity].
Let us carouse
on a vilified glass.
Give us a spoon,
sugar, iced water,
succumb to the spirit.
La fée verte.
Sorcery!
Polly Robinson © 2013
I stand at the top of the stairs and glare
through the glass across the fields where mist lurks
in the morning rays. And there! runs a hare.
Polly Robinson © 2013
A line of stalls,
a place to perform
stories and poems,
the sun was warm.
A ‘poet-tree’ was found,
promo stuff placed on the ground.
People walking into town
with a purpose,
‘No time’ with a frown.
People walking home again,
with no time to linger then.
So the answer was to read them poems
as they walked through the throng.
‘Would you like a poem? It’s just four lines long,’
and some said ‘Ooh, yes, that’d be good,’
and some said, ‘No thank you,’
[they weren’t in the mood.]
The poets did their very best,
gave out leaflets, performed to the rest,
accompanied walkers and gave them a poem
asked them if they wished to join …
but you can’t stop folk when they’ve things to do,
their minds on shopping for outfits new, or
Sunday lunch, fresh veg and fruit,
they saw the stalls, and [what a hoot]
saw nothing to make them loiter
or enter
a writing competition.
Their attention held for less than
the moment it
took to give them a flyer,
maybe they’ll enter
at home …
maybe they’ll tire of
the words on the page and
sling them away.
No matter,
we
had a good day
with amicable spirits willing
to stand
in the sun and
enjoy good fellowship.
Polly Robinson © 2013
Aw … just look what I found covered by overgrown shrubs …
They’re so beautiful …
Here are some photos of our garden, sort of ‘before’ and ‘after’ pics 
We are the gardening people,
happy boys and girls,
secateurs, we wield them freely,
stems and stalks are in the wheely …
Slugs and snails are enemies,
pigeons, rabbits: pests,
organic gardening is for us,
[though pesticides would mean a rest!]
Double digging gets earth ready,
nurturing the seeds,
using spades and gardening forks,
veg and flowers in our thoughts …
Clearing up the winter debris,
building a bonfire,
causing backache, crampy legs,
and, in the sunshine, pounding heads.
On earth and compost we are keen,
no merrier people can be seen,
because we all do gardening,
we’re happy boys and girls.
Polly Robinson © 2013
