Haiku #5

Silhouette scorched black
Against deep burning orange
Descending from blue

Haiku #4

Sunset burning woods
Such a wondrous illusion
Relying on chance

Haiku #3

Sweet bleeding blossom
Who'd spill your beautiful bloom?
The wind cutting deep

Haiku #2

Pheasant, badger, hare
Woodland beast unique and fair
To which non compare

Haiku #1

Lonely stands a tree
Proud in a field forgotten
What tales you could tell

I'm Awake!

I'm awake!
I don't know why
I'm awake!
I want to cry
I'm awake!
It's almost day
I'm awake!
I start to pray
The lord my soul to keep
I just want some f***ing sleep!

'A Silent Invitation'

A silent invitation
With downcast eyes
Exposed, radiant, glowing
The sight of her silk
I move closer
The feel of her silk
Closer still
The scent of her silk
Closer
The taste of her silk


Never have I experienced
Something so innocent and pure
Her eyes sparkle
Amongst glistening beads of sweat
Peering into my very soul
One last sigh
'I love you'
With a smile
I weep in ecstasy
With joy
I've lain with an angel


Alas!


'Tis but a dream
Revealing cold, barren chambers
And soiled sheets.

The Day The Clown Cried.

The day the clown cried.
It wasn't hurt pride
Or having been lied
To, or shunned aside
From stardom worldwide.
It wasn't his bride,
Pretty and wide eyed
Who failed to confide
In him, love denied.
Nor was it the slide,
Stood, unused, outside
With swings alongside.
It was that he tried
To see the upside
Of a world deprived
Of joy he'd provide
When he would decide
The day the clown died.

Oh God, It's A Carrot!

Oh god, it's a carrot!
Blast this fear of mine,
Lachanophobia-
The irrational fear of vegetables. 
Sweating, shortness of breath,
Feelings of dread,
Constantly ridiculed,
Having food thrown at me. 
Cucumbers. 
Tomatoes. 
A blummin' great big pumpkin. 
Then they stand there,
Confuzzled,
As to why I'm not,
Screaming in horror. 
'They're all fruit you idiots!'
And they call me silly. 
Oh god, there's another carrot!

A Dying Rose

I awake, alone, in a strange garden,
Being forced to consume polluted rain,
Exposed to many random stunted suns.
I can no longer feel the winds, just pain.


Plucked in my prime! I've now become grotesque,
But a shadow of my former beauty,
Dying in the pocket of a stranger.
Nothing but a temporary trophy.


My aroma dwindles, my petals wilt,
My stem and my leaves are brown and brittle.
Now I am presenting nothing but thorns.
I'm falling apart, little by little.


Whilst i'm in this fatal and forlorn state,
I can't help but drift towards thoughts of home,
An animated and vibrant domain,
Where my kin reside and birds and bees roam.

Who'd Love A Fool?

Who'd love a fool

If a fool wouldst love

'Til his heart stopped beating?

Would you love a fool

If a fool wouldst love

Upon first meeting?

Would a fool love another?

Aye!

'Til their hearts stopped beating.

A Symptom Of Love.

It frightens me,
The physical effect,
Your presence,
Has on my heart,
It beats so fast,
It could rip,
Through my chest,
Or stop completely,
At any moment,
I could die in your arms,
There's no other place,
I'd rather be.

When It Begins To Rain.

When it begins to rain,
The rich start to complain,
Whilst drinking their champagne,
When it begins to rain.


When it begins to rain
The poor (bathing) maintain,
'We're really not insane',
When it begins to rain.


When it begins to rain,
The murmurs of the vain
Are heard, 'Oh not again!'
When it begins to rain.