Voyeurs

They want to bite her legs, the pigs,
who eat anything, everything, all …
They’re voyeurs of the worst kind,
they wait and watch and growl.

The noise continues through twilight,
as she sits quiet, in reflection,
but, hark, is that them coming through?
She grabs a broom for protection.

They charge the fence and mire the field,
rattle buckets, stare,
they groan to make her stomach squeal.
Gimlet-eyed malevolent glare.

Ghastly grunts and hawking coughs,
yellow hair on pink piggy backs,
blighted, boorish, ghoulish black spots,
windy, snotty, snuffling, wuffling, dirty, shirty pigs.

Now, what good she thinks the broom will do
is a very perceptive question.
Maybe she’ll ram it in their maws
and ruin their digestion.

Evil pig

Polly Robinson © 2013

Creative Nuts

An almond, in a walnut,

With a lateral nucleus for

Fear conditioning

And a central nucleus for

Fight or flight.

A walnut that can dream,

Plus an almond of fear,

The consciousness of the soul,

Creativity is here.

Polly Robinson © 2013

In response to an interesting prompt from Anna, truly a Poetic inspiration, at dVersePoets: Meeting the Bar: Creativity 

Beans for Tea

I am a little robin
Sitting in a tree,
Mamma says I have to fly,
But I am scared, you see.

My L-plate is affixed
To feathers quivering proud,
Flying lessons start,
We gather quite a crowd.

The ground is such a long way down,
My wings are brown and small,
I tell Mamma that I am scared,
She doesn’t care at all!

Pappa says ‘Fly or else
I’ll shove you off that bough,’
My little body shivers,
‘But Pa,’ I say, ‘tell how?’

‘You’ll be all right, my pretty,
You have a go,’ says he,
‘You’ll fly easy – feathers, wings –
Just think, baked beans for tea.’

I’m launched by his ‘thwack’
My wings stretch gingerly,
I can’t help looking back,
I plummet, dangerously.

The L-plate spirals wildly,
I downward tumble and flap,
My eyes are spinning in my head,
And then I feel a tap.

‘Come on love,’ says Mamma,
‘Give those wings another try,
One – two, one – two, you can do it
Look upward to the sky.’

And then I am away,
Into the blue I soar,
The L-plates fall away from me,
All of their own accord.

My Pa is crowing loudly,
He is so proud of me,
He shouts out as I flutter by,
‘OK love!  Beans for tea.’

Polly Robinson © 2012

Shadow of Fear

Haunting your childhood dreams,
Shadow of fear,
Climbs stairs to silent scream;
Sharp talons appear
On arms extreme,
Bat-like, austere.
Himself to redeem,
He edges nearer … near.

Haunting your children’s dreams,
Shadow of fear,
No mirror image seen,
What’s that they hear?
Horror hands intervene,
Unearthly sneer;
Fangs glint in foulest scene,
Silhouette leers.

Haunting your every dream
Shadow of fear,
Nosferatu of nightmare theme,
Stalks, then he’s here!
Touch on your shoulder seam,
Fangs drip, smeared;
Throat constricts slowly,
Is punctured, revered.

Polly Robinson © 2012

For You

To my darling friend,
Who has found
Unlooked for love
And is
Afraid.

‘I really, really, really like him!  It’s scary.’

His lips brush hers
Grazed by teeth and tongues.
Eyes seek the other’s
Lurching into the depths
Of passion so profound
It tingles like touch paper,
Lights up like fireworks.
Onlookers gasp
And are reminded
By the glances,
The hand holds,
The secret smiles,
… if they are lucky.
Yet unlike fireworks,
This smoulder may never stop,
But develop into the soft glow
Of a friendship,
Started before passion’s presence.
Fortitude helps feelings
Embed, so time
Makes them only richer,
More wondrous,
As you move together
To meet the other.
Relish every instant,
Enjoy the emotion,
Make the moments memorable.
Don’t be scared,
Be happy, happy, happy.
What are those who cannot
Let go?
Who live lives of regret
With ‘if only’ and ‘what if?’

And the poorer for it.

Would it last only a mote
In the magnitude of mortal life,
Each precious second
Is for you.
It is for you.
A desert needs
Only water to grow;
The seeds are
Hidden;
Nurture them,
Let go.
Make love welcome,
Love it,
Be it.
Take your chance
Now is not the time
For a backward glance.

Polly Robinson © 2012