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and shore,

so he paddled onwards,

it seemed like evermore.

 

At last luck interceded,

a dredger lay ahead

and from it lay a walkway

across the muddy bed.

 

Then closing on the dredger,

a porthole came in sight,

a man was sleeping in a chair

beneath a swinging light.

 

The little boat collided

with a mighty crash,

the man leapt up in panic,

the two boys made their dash.

 

Four happy feet were grateful

to be on something firm,

though once you get your ‘sea-legs’

it’s not easy to unlearn.

 

Luck had made their ‘land-fall’

upon the Isle of Grain,

for open seas were waiting

beyond this last terrain.

 

Jimmy took a gamble,

returning to his place

though he didn’t get a hiding,

they kept him in disgrace.

 

Strange, they never asked him

how he’d spent his time,

so it stayed a lifetime secret

‘till it came out in this rhyme.

 

Polar Seasons

Autumns, Winters, Springs and Summers,

capricious seasons of the mind,

would that one could banish

Polar seasons of this kind.

 

Arcane Vibes

The wind plays its strains

in the trees and the reeds

and its pulse ripples down

for unknowable needs.

 

But are we not reeds

though not to the breezes,

do we dance to a tune

and not know who it pleases?

 

Are there arcane vibes

that are all played together

and the reeds that we are,

need but one that will tether?

 

Does it play you a mood

and a wish to be freed

that perhaps is a spur

for retuning the reed?

 

And thus to be touched

by a sound that had winged

from the chord a celestial

harpist had stringed.

 

An ‘Other Worldly’ Encounter

A voice was on the night air rung

and spoken in the Siamese tongue,

Its sound upon the quietness broke

upon my mind thus I awoke.

 

This urgent tone quickly worsening

called to mind my Siamese nurseling,

so curious what my kitten faced

I stumbled from my sleep in haste.

 

Soon the door was opened wide

to find me in the night outside

and there beneath a streetlight sat

my kitten and a large black cat.

 

But something else moved in the night

with soundless feet towards the light,

It was a lady of some substance,

I stayed no less, though with reluctance.

 

For what was elegance and grace

doing where it had no place,

with clothes a hundred years outdated,

we were sharing times unrelated.

Her arms reached out unnaturally

towards the silent cats and me,

I saw the large black cat respond

as though the two of them belonged.

 

Then she turned with arms outstretched,

her cat went too, though it were fetched,

they wandered outward from the light

and then away towards the night.

 

She came it seems, to guide its paws

back through time’s re-opening doors.

 

The Party and Other Things

Little Jimmy was a rebel,

he preferred to be estranged,

having noticed that the adults

were only surface rearranged.

Pretending to be one thing

and in fact, to be another,

he wasn’t going down that road

for others to uncover.

 

Socks were made for pulling up,

so he pulled his socks down,

covered legs went nasty white

and he preferred his brown.

Jackets must be worn at school

but it never suited him,

so he left it at a friend’s house;

teacher’s face was always grim.

 

Even hair was under orders,

every head was cloned

but Jimmy liked it natural,

so everybody groaned.

Whacking came on thick and fast,

both at home and school

and fighting in between with boys,

broke another rule.

 

Like water off a duck’s back,

were attempts at his correction,

he wasn’t going to finish up

an orthodox projection.

Although a stickler for his values,

he also had his price,

trifles, cakes and chocolates

were his corrupting vice.

 

Finally the day arrived

when he fell from grace

he was invited to a party

round at his friend’s place.

Now he knew children’s parties

meant lots of cakes and stuff

he also knew about the catch;

no-one turned up like a scruff.

 

So he stood before the mirror,

having climbed out of the bath,

the socks were up, the jacket on,

he hoped they wouldn’t laugh.

He discovered that his shirt

could fasten to the top,

but he wasn’t going to wear a tie

and turn up like a fop.

 

The hair would not pass muster,

it should not have had a wash,

it stuck out like a porcupine,

without grease, it wasn’t posh.

He rummaged through the cupboard,

there was not a thing in sight,

so he settled for the camphorated,

though it didn’t smell quite right.

 

He gazed into the mirror,

a vision of resplendence

and wondered was the cost too high

compromising independence,

but he was getting hungry

and time that he was going.

He knew the smell would soon be gone

for a boisterous wind was blowing.

 

Some half an hour later

he knocked the party door,

his friend was pleased to see him

and he was introduced to more.

The table groaned beneath the food,

twenty mouths began to eat,

then a little girl let out a scream

and vanished from her seat.

 

Camphorated was the reason

the table quickly cleared,

big sister from another room

very soon appeared.

Thirty seconds later

his head was in the sink,

shampooed half a dozen times

to modify the stink.

 

The sister started combing,

trying not to smile,

his mind was on the table

and its disappearing pile.

But time had done its damage

he was taken quite aback,

the table was a semblance

of a nuclear attack.

The gateaux plate was empty,

the trifle basin too,

and as other plates proved empty,

his disaster grew and grew.

But then a loaded tray appeared,

carried by his friend

and changed a near disaster

into a fat and happy end.

 

Nothing is Infallible

Nothing is so clever

that its never wrong,

nothing lasts forever

nothing lasts that long.

 

The Construction Business

There is no single item

that mankind has created,

whose pre-objective origins

were not fantasy related.

 

But fantasies come thick and fast

to every single mind,

judicious and improvident,

there is every kind.

 

Though seemingly capricious

from a narrow view,

in truth they are a reservoir,

an abstract elemental brew.

 

Fantasies are building blocks,

each mind makes its construction,

judicious ones will stand secure,

the others wreak destruction.

 

Judicious ones underscore

the process of their being,

their architect is intellect,

hope and sequel thus agreeing.

 

In establishing her principle,

Nature makes it clear,

that intellect alone creates,

then........what made us appear?

 

Happy School Days

Jimmy came back from the country

with a heavy dialect

and started at a new school,

but wasn’t treated with respect.

They said he sounded funny

so he told them ‘what to do’.

They called him a country yokel

and so the tension grew.

 

They had a champion fighter,

a giant of a girl

that Jimmy kept away from

lest her venom should unfurl.

But she liked an easy target

and soon she sealed his fate,

instructing him to meet her

that night outside the gate.

 

Now Jimmy didn’t mind a fight

but never with a giant,

so he quickly made a plan

so as not to be compliant.

At last the classrooms emptied

at the finish of the day,

they all gathered at the exit;

they had a game to play.

 

But it soon became apparent

they were missing their main player,

and so the hunt began

for their victim for the slayer.

 

In the meantime, Jimmy,

in an effort to escape,

tried squeezing through a window

that was too small for his shape.

His head soon found its freedom,

quickly followed by his chest

but his trousers got entangled

so he couldn’t bring the rest.

 

At last the baying pack arrived

and soon his legs were captured,

followed by the rest of him,

he wasn’t feeling too enraptured.

They swarmed out of the building

carrying their quarry

towards a quiet secluded place

where they wouldn’t have to worry.

 

They quickly formed a circle,

silence fell upon the crowd,

with Jimmy in the centre,

his escape was not allowed.

Their champion stepped forwards,

her talons raked the air,

Jimmy looked upon the scene,

it filled him with despair.

 

But she was over confident

and didn’t watch her guard,

she didn’t see the lightening blow

that struck her nose so hard.

The girl let out an awful squeal

and landed on her back,

tearfully complaining

of Jimmy’s fell attack.

But her complaints were smothered

as the mob began to stir

and the next thing seemed to Jimmy

was a lynching would occur.

 

Eager hands fell on him

and raised him up on high,

then he heard them cheering,

it seemed a funny way to die.

But at last he got the message

they were glad she was defeated,

her bullying was over with

and justice had been meted.

 

Ticking Clocks

By ticking clocks within the head,

the pace is set and we are led.

The silent ticking clock awaits,

all things devolve to former states.

 

Voices of the Heart

Anima to ego, must we stay apart,

you’ve built a wall between us,

a foolish course you chart.

Your future’s bleak without me,

together we are strong,

break down the wall between us,

apart we don’t belong.

 

You rule in things objective,

I’m power behind your throne,

you’re grasping at illusions

when I’m cast out out alone.

 

My name can be destruction,

my name can be amour,

my name is many shades between,

I’m the keeper of the door.

 

I speak in ways symbolic,

unravel them you must

to seek from them the only path

to which a spirit may entrust.

 

The Jimmy Riddle

The school bus pulled up near some old Cornish mines

and the children poured out and formed into lines.

Orders were given “We must stay all together”,

it was a desperate hope and a wasted endeavour.

 

For they spread out like ants around the ruins and holes

and disappeared into tunnels, like rabbits and moles.

Teacher was dumbstruck, she ran here and there,

collecting the miscreants under her care.

 

It took all of an hour collecting them all,

though one was still missing at the final roll call.

“It’s Jimmy that’s missing” said a voice from the ranks,

“He’s been up to one of his usual pranks.”

 

“He went down a hole with a torch in his hand,

mumbling something I could not understand,

there were ladders and platforms right to the bottom,

according to Jimmy they were sound, and not rotten.”

Jim in the meantime, was two hundred feet lower,

three hundred more followed at a speed rather slower,

for the steep sloping shaft that he followed this time

had rotting supports that were covered with slime.

 

Then he saw some old writing just overhead

from the smoke of a candle, had been written “Jed”.

He stepped into a tunnel and walked for a while,

though a few yards with Jed seemed more like a mile.

 

His wobbling torch threw weird shapes on the wall

and his feet echoed back like a distant foot fall,

he was now in a panic but he couldn’t go back,

where he knew “Jed” was waiting to mount his attack.

 

Then a steep sloping shaft came into his view

like the one he’d come down, so his hopefulness grew.

He ascended its ladders at a dizzying speed,

faster he hoped than “Jed” could exceed.

 

In no time at all he was out above ground

through a vertical shaft like the one he’d first found.

There were bushes about, so he stayed out of view

whilst he did some quick thinking, for he knew what was due.

 

Then he took a quick peek at the distant furore

where the shaft was surrounded by some thirty or more,

then a quick as a whip, he slipped back to the bus

for he had a good plan for reducing the fuss.

 

Jimmy pressed on the hooter for ever so long,

until the driver came back to see what was wrong.

“I’ve been asleep here for hours,” Jimmy then said,

until that awful commotion made me wake up instead.

 

When they got back to school, there were rumours about,

‘Jimmy entered a mine and didn’t come out’.

Several pairs of young eyes could vouch for this fact,

it left no doubt in their minds, it was a magical act.

 

A Dogalogue of Misfortune

We had a dog in our street

that kept a cat in constant flight

until that poor tormented creature

was a gaunt and haunted sight.

 

But the day of retribution

was soon to be at hand

when dog and cat with kittens met,

for then she made her stand.

The peaceful day erupted

to the sounds of doggy terror

with a cat clamped firmly on his back,

he knew he’d made an error.

 

Then off he flew at lightning speed

as she began to claw,

and disappeared around a bend

leaving fur upon the floor.

 

His ears were never quite the same

with edges all serrated

and he never chased that cat again

with his courage zero rated.

But he had a back-up hobby,

he really hated cars,

causing anger to the owners

whose paintwork bore his scars.

 

His modus operandi

was to sit outside his house,

then as the worried drivers passed,

he played a game of cat and mouse.

 

Then every so often

and no-one knew quite when,

he’d launch upon a passing car,

it never looked the same again.

 

He settled in one morning

to dispense the daily trauma,

when come-uppance in another form

came driving ‘round the corner.

 

This driver had a plan in hand

in case it should be needed,

then sure enough in passing,

the dog’s attack proceeded.

 

The driver got his timing right

then opened up his door,

and the poor old dog was batted

fifteen feet or more.

 

Now everything that purrs

and anything with wheels,

he has banished from his hobbies

for giving him bad deals.

 

With such a battered ego,

will he find a new endeavour,

perhaps with such a murky past

it’s better never to say never.

 

Purchasing Power

Jimmy was sent to the shops

for the Dandy and five cigarettes,

Woodbines came in packets of five,

without them father frets.

 

All the shops were nice and new

where Jimmy did the buying,

one of them

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