Penelope

I watch the glistening stars
waiting for thy presence
thy brown eyes
a pulse through the universe
bound
connected
to ne’r be smothered
infinitely
Penelope

be mine

Mrs Khan

Mrs Khan
had a nasty man
who hit her hard
with a frying pan

he made her weep
and make her sleep
outside with the mice
in a garbage can

she ran away
to the USA
moved to a town
it was called Bomb Bay

there she met
her soulmate me
who made her smile
and feel happy

My beautiful English rose

she
was born
with many a thorn
prickly
yet blossoming
in my light
not to clamber
over yours truly
much to his delight

holding reds
fragrant and fresh
she stands firm
with puissant pose
now stuck
in me
I embrace her sting
my beautiful
English rose

Her butterflies

the fresh smell
of springs’ air
rosy cheeks
her skin so fair
she seeks
a naughty boy
who wants him
for her butterflies
and a bit of joy

all the while
her precious
innocent smile
and insecure
female stance
wants to control
her butterflies
before they start
to dance…

You need hands

You need hands to hold someone you care for
You need hands to show that you’re sincere
When you fear nobody wants to know you
You need hands to brush away the tears

When you hold the brand new baby
You need tender hands to guide them on their way
You need hands to thank the Lord for living
And forgiving us this day

You need hands to show the world you’re happy
And you need hands when you have to stop the bus
But the hands we love so dear
Are the hands we love to hear

Are the hands that You give to us
Everybody holds the hands that You give to us
Hold on, I don’t believe it, fantastic, that’s so wonderful

~Malcolm McLarren – Sex Pistols

Sunday morning

early on a sunday morning
w hen everything is dead
I hear the church bells ringing
lying in my bed

alone and lonely
lonely for you
I am by myself
but my heart is here with you