Market Mascots. Photo by Robert Rath from Robert’s website.
I’m on the home straight of writing and publishing a poem a day for April; only two to go (after this one).
Thank you so much to everyone who has taken time to comment or ‘like’ my writing efforts. It’s a tough and fairly lonely challenge and any and all feedback is a welcome boost to the morale.
A few months ago I wrote the lines ‘The trees are singing their heads off / the birds are losing their leaves’ and abandoned them. Today I decided to continue. As usual, I was surprised where I ended up.
Much ado about a to-do
The trees are singing their heads off
the birds are losing their leaves
the sky is growing a garden of gnomes
the air is knocked to its knees
everything is higgledy down
all is piggledy upside
the whole shebang is mumbled and juddled
conplussed, muxed ip and stummoxed
We kiss the grief that prays with us
we stroke the love that strikes us
we dance and dine with the sticks and stones
and bones that roll and break us
everything is higgledy down
all is piggledy upside
the whole shebang is mumbled and juddled
conplussed, muxed ip and stummoxed
We swim for our lives in vats of words
we relish the wine that speaks us
we cling to a hope that weaves a web
of lies and to poison that tastes us
everything is higgledy down
all is piggledy upside
the whole shebang is mumbled and juddled
conplussed, muxed ip and stummoxed
We own the leaders who sell themselves out
we give flying honours to hornets
we play with the lives of children confined
we get thin on our thousand-cut pensions
everything is higgledy down
all is piggledy upside
the whole shebang is mumbled and juddled
conplussed, muxed ip and stummoxed
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