When the pen takes control.

The concert was a great success

Just a few initial hiccups

Lead guitarist had no pickup

His mind was in its usual mess

Thinking what riffs would most impress

To make the crowd as one, exhale

In one long, frenzied, drawn out wail

Of adulation at his skill

Guaranteed everyone to thrill

Like all Rock Gods, he couldn’t fail

Cold comfort, knowing

That pride comes before a fall

Being at your best.

The sad tale of a family called Lee

Who lived in a cottage at the edge of the sea

One year whilst they were on holiday

A high tide washed the little house away

Rubble in the sand is now all you can see

I awoke in the dead of night

heard a noise, of that I’m certain

took a peep around the curtain

nothing could give me such a fright

as I saw in the pale moonlight

by the base of the old oak tree

although he didn’t notice me

a fox stood rooted to the ground

while a rabbit ran round and round

all the while laughing evilly.

What once we knew as

“Wet behind the ears,” becomes

Has “the bloom of youth.“

Eradicate weeds

With a deadly orange dust

Think not of life’s cost

When my friends and I went into the ruins

That days homework we were doing

The teacher had told the class to find

If the builders had left anything behind

But we only found things left by lovers wooing

Deep within dark caves

Each slow drip immortalised

Frozen in the drop

It feels like it was only yesterday

When all the children used to dance and play

Under the old knarled chestnut tree

With the sounds of laughter and shrieks of glee

And now all the players I knew have gone

But the tree, like my memories, lingers on