The Words that Turn

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Serendipity came by on chance

It passed euphoria along

As I flowed in my idyllic dream

Aurora sang its skyline song

In soundless beauty of our solitude

We lay supine in soothing sun

Breathing freshness of the petrichor

Savouring quiet moments won

Lords and Ladies of the Platter

In the realm of favoured pets

Reign beloveds better served

Spruced high-class let none surpass

Due reverence deserved

With much esteem and adulation

No dissent is ever muttered

Taking sides much love abides

Where one’s bread is nicely buttered

Bright time night-time love companions

They walk contentedly together

On streets where treats communicate

Side by side in every weather

Sandwiched

Wednesday is the when day

When the middle’s up for grabs

A perfect day for in-betweenness

Picking ideas taking stabs

When your day is undecided

Fifty-fifty either way

A halfway house of indecisiveness 

Partway held by yet to play

Wednesday then must swivel

Pivot stagger twist and flail

Hold on too long with slipping grip

A withered when day dried up tale

A Pack of Eyes

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Pairs of glares on I-see stairs

In the cold light of the day

Looking down disdainfully

In a most unfriendly way

A stormy form that cannot warm

In spite of many in its group

Who dream in screams of enmity

In their lower level stoop

It all stews down to odious views

What can you do with hateful lies 

Stuck in a fusion of illusion

In gangs of unwise packs of eyes

In The Present Day

Gambles have been taken

Time to check your lifestyle bets

On how long it will be before

The full severity besets

Levity will not prevail

Many vacuums will ensue

As deals for meals and foreign wheels

Disappear and turn the screw

Remember all those years ago

How happy men ran off to war

Sang jovial songs to please the throngs

Soon were shattered to the core

Now we face the world out there

As striking wealth occurs elsewhere

We volunteered to be alone

Where we might gain a greater share

Oh we of British little voice

Banging drums and waving flags

We are us on board our tour E-Bus

Stifled by our self-made snags

Looks Like

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Scientists delving deeply

If studied faces can be read

Smiling blank or frowning

Maybe a window to one’s head

It’s said that faces paint emotions

Masquerades of thin veneer

Frowning in a happy state

Smiling menaces that leer

Veiling fakes like poker players

Deceitful smirk or genial smile

Scowling steam or brightly beam

Captivate with charm beguile

Twitter Sad or Glad?

If you have a hankering

To be a Twitter voice

First of all You need to know

Every tweeter has a choice

Like all  free speaking platforms

There are whingers in among

Philogynists misogynists  

Where contraries get their fun

Irritation reigns if points of view

Expect a reverence receipt

Feeling hollow in the wallow

Of self-pitying retreat

In summing up the Twitter trail

Caravans to valleys green

Bandwagons chasing frontier posts

A new way search of what things mean

So if you wish to change the world

Not ending up all sad and bitter

Tweet with limited expectations

No point in getting mad at Twitter

Partial To Love

Now the month of valentines

Where love is all around

Oodles of canoodles

A darling’s merry go round

It is that fruitful time of year

Where the tender hearts awake

Sending secret friendly eyes

With invitations to partake

Blissful thrills a throbbing heart

Springtime calls a love to arms

A tender touch a sweet caress 

Sunlight words of love filled charms

Sunday Storms

The tea towel on our washing line

Is somersaulting with the squalls

Supported by two plastic pegs

In what remains of mother’s smalls

The rapid speed of wind blow dries

As once again the rain resumes

The tea towel waves a call for truce

Whilst a hail of downpour looms

At last the tea towel limply droops

A washing line dance in repose

Hangs on for another weather romp

Bound to happen we suppose

Train of Mort

Intrepid is the traveller

Who must suffer on a train

Standing in the thick of it

Day in day out a strain

The rising cost of ticketing

Has only made the aching worse

With the loss of punctuality

The indignity gets worse

Every journey is an insult

As travel value disappears

It didn’t happen recently

It’s been going on for years

Off you go you squeeze in tight

So grateful to be there

A sardine scene like plasticine

Unwilling body pressing share

Wormhole Junction

It won't be long I'm sure before

We make every journey shorter

Flitting in between at speed

Aboard an under-space transporter

No need for tram or railway stops

Just two entangled quarks combine

To make a wormhole spanning

Then cruise where worlds apart align

No need for clocks and watches

There’ll be no on-time or delay

Doing light years in a jiffy

Get back before we went away

Inoperative

It must be thought preventing Sunday

I’m being goaded by the post

Twitter rants are mainly pants

Though one or two have me engrossed

The weekend paper in my line of sight

Suggests my puzzles need my mind

Anagrams and cryptic codewords

A pencil paperwork unwind

On days like this there’s too much lull

It muzzles in on my attention

I wait for things that memory brings

Could do much better by abstention