If I were a baby

He carried with him a substantial flagon of red wineand offered, with a melancholy smile as wellas earnest eyes and shaking hands, from cold.We sat and drank, in darkness to the soundsof carefree frogs and the occasional Uhu,he talked at length about night birds and what it meansif one can hear its call in darkness,…

lounge on the P/H sitethey are not very brightwhile hiding in the darkthey practice their dull bark.They cannot write at allbut somehow have the gallto place their numbers nearnew poems, for they fearthat somehow others willadmire poets’ skill,it’s envy at its worstand I am not the firstwho did uncover this.Those who are full of pissor…

Looked up in timeto see a shadow.Leaving.Not unlikesome commonthievesso late at night.And all that’s leftbehind for me wasjust a sound.No sound of musicbut the busy fiddleof reality,which was creating nowthe lovely, but so final sounds:The patter of -just leaving now -,the patter of so, yes…..so manyl’il boys’ feet.

who’d clean the place and catch the mousethat came inside to ponderhow quickly he would get intothe place that strikes his fancyhe’d try his clever tricks on you,perhaps some sycophancy?The cook, the cleaner, the alarma jackie of all tradesshe is expected to wear charmin multicoloured shades.Get up, you kids, it’s time for schoolthe bacon’s almost…

and if so he will bounce youlike a cockatoo featherand then sign on the dotthe green voucher that grantsa whole sackful of yearsfull of ravings and rantsof good Scotch and cold beers.And a woman whose tempertakes this poet in strideas her password is SEMPER,and her style true and tried.When you wake you will slureven swearwords…

we watch and nurture and we KNOWthat LOVE itself has come alive,to utter doubts and low esteemis just a deal we often strikewith forces that may end our dreamit’s not the finger in the dykethat will decide, for in the endYOU shall wear flowers in your hairand drape them as we then suspendaround my face,…