Mr. Wasp (deceased)

He could have been anything.
The food-finder.
The queen-rescuer.
The colony-saviour.
He could have been a hero,
A thousand hot wings clapping his return,
Stings quivering,
The nest aflame with hum and buzz.

Except the adventure took a wrong turn.

That dark tunnel
With odd smells, delights
Was not the path to fame.
Simply an air vent.
To a bathroom prison.

Brave Mr. Wasp.
I hope you found your way to wasp heaven.

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Breathe deep

I bite my lip, cast my eyes to the floor
And feel your warm touch soft on my sweetskin.
Breathe deep. I know I’m not yours anymore.

A look, a smile and a man to adore.
Feel the familiar hard ache from within.
I bite my lip, cast my eyes to the floor

My ego is bruised, my heart is rubbed sore
And for too long I have smiled through the sin.
Breathe deep. I know I’m not yours anymore.

No shred to save us, I’m totally sure –
You look at me. There’s no way I can win.
I bite my lip, cast my eyes to the floor

Wish I could leave you and not feel like a whore.
It’s taken its toll. I try to stay thin.
Breathe deep. I know I’m not yours anymore.

You grab my wrists and my life is kissed raw
Head rush. Wait, wait for fresh pain to begin.
I bite my lip, cast my eyes to the floor
Breathe deep. I know I’m not yours anymore.

Would you go to bed with me?

Let’s talk about sex.
Let’s not skirt the issue
Of my skirt getting shorter.

I’m keeping the hemline high,
(See the twinkle in my eye?)
Yes, I want you to touch my thigh.

Is that my top slipping off my shoulder?
How many more hints that this girl
Wants you to hold her?

Let’s talk about sex.
Lets not skirt the issue
Of my skirt getting shorter.
I’m trying my best to land myself in hot water….

The land of lost socks

Let us journey, you and me,
to the land of lost socks and lost car keys.
We’ll cross the sea of forgotten toys,
with tears of upset girls and boys,
adventure to the utmost part
of forgetting things you’ve learnt by heart,
climb up the hill of mislaid change
and the mountain named ‘I thought I left it there, that’s strange…’

We’ll search for all we’re searching for.
We’ll find it there. The lost and more.

Sunday Sunday

Eyes slow-open and stretch.
Got my sleepy Sunday sunshine smile.

But it seems the message
Of a day
Seeing friends
Me and you, lots to do,
Plans made, picnics laid,
In the park till after dark
Didn’t get through.

Pull back the curtains and
It’s grey. Raining.
But not going to start complaining.
Just going to hibernate,
Stay in bed till late
Lazy breakfast, cups of tea,
Snuggling for you and me,
Watch a film, have a snooze
Chase away the weather blues.

Eyes slow-close and relax.
Got my sleepy Sunday snoozy smile.

Words

Stop writing.
Stop the meaningless words.
The sorry, I didn’t mean too,
The I still love you’s weighted with regret.

Burn your words.
The stained paper and spoilt ink.
Written in tearful haste.

Sticks and stones
but words….
Words..

Written but I still hear your voice.
With every letter formed I see your lips.
Your hand making promises your heart couldn’t keep.

A good day out

So much to see and
My legs too short.
Swinging between
Outstretched hands,
Waist height and happy.

Pigtails and the sun’s out. 
Peering over walls
Secret places, dens of dark and dappled.
Scuffed shoes.

Ice cream and messy,
Sticky fingers
And a strawberry sauce stained jumper.
Nobody minds.
There’s a smile on all three faces.

Shadows lengthen and draw.
Held tight,
A tired little head rests
A gentle thump thump
Against a shoulder,
Always there to lean on.

It’s been a good day out.
A good day out indeed.