When the pen takes control.

I have a little tractor

I ride on it all day

But if I asked my wife to do it

I know what she would say

Be off with you, you silly fool

You’ll not get me riding up there

I’m not interested in farmer’s tools

it would make a mess of my hair.

I’ve got work I must do here

Destiny awaits

bringing both joy and sadness

both finely balanced

I went to my mother and said where’s

the little wooden table and two chairs

she looked out the window then said to me

they’re at the bottom of the garden can’t you see

I said to her that I had just been there

and I couldn’t find them anywhere

she said go and look down by the trees

they’re probably covered in the Autumn leaves

and so of course when I went out to see

they were right where Mummy said they’d be

Clever Mummy

The empty goatskin

can revive the drowning man

air replacing water

I stroll around my local patch

and wonder at the sights I see

surmounted by a roof of thatch

whitewashed walls tween black oak beams

I stand and gaze in ecstasy

at this the cottage of my dreams

thoughts and memories

seeking release from their net

dreams in the night

His Royal Highness, some once thought a fool, has shown his fitness over us to rule.