Most recent 'Wizard' poem... GORGONS

Gorgons

“Steel your nerve adventurer,
be dexterous and wise.
Make haste to the Supermarket...
The tea bags are in aisle five.

Watch out! Milk spill, aisle three,
a fat white ocean wide.
Steer your trolley deftly lest
you wake the gremlin inside.

Should your trolley veer harsh left
you’ve just upset its gremlin.
I gift to you one SLEEPWAX spell
to soothe those wheels a-trembling.

Beyond baked bean tin avalanche,
behold- our goal- our tea!
But yet, beware the check out tills,
sat there are sisters three.

Foul Supermarket gorgon hags!
Their hook clawed nails forebode.
Spit fire if you pay with change
or buy food with no bar code.

I swear to you – one look could kill!
O mortal man-hate frown.
So judging should you shop barefoot
or in your dressing gown

whispering ‘Weird!’ and ‘Paranoid!’
with spindly fingery glee.
Can you survive these devil’s crones
to bring back milk and tea?”

Another 'Wizard' poem- this one's called 'Tea'

Brew for me a cuppa tea.
Fill to brim my mug.
Warm our bodies, brains and speech.
Internal, liquid hug.

Every word I form began
an undug thought to free,
each like an acorn in my skull
to feed and wet with tea.

You and me, together,
sharing tea, the world goes mute.
I hear a rumbling in my head,
our tea wet words take root

and grow, a thousand words tower tall
all branching inspiration.
Kettle’s boiled, tend our talk
with tea’s sweet irrigation.

Sheltered by these evergreen boughs
let's make another brew.
My mind’s a forest of great calm chat
with cups of tea and you.

First draft of a new 'Wizard' poem

*Snap* *Click* *Thwack!*
My heart armour... is intact.
Mission target sighted!
There is NO turning back...

It is a quest to retrieve
the most awesome treasure.
Most power-reaping life spark!
-yet most quiescent pleasure.
For its lure, a king could murder,
forsake riches, live in rags!
It's legend is sung in many lands tongue.
The magic of...

TEA BAGS!

Pyramid ones are preferable,
though square or circular's fine.
No nobler elixir flows
within your land or mine.
Without tea, I turn wild as wolf,
tea's name, I howl and bark it.
Tea can save if we can brave
the trials of...
...Supermarket...

O... ...Supermarket
where the happiest heart could crack.
For tea, I don my heart armour,
*Snap* *Click* *Thwack!*

O... ...Supermarket
enslaves her worker’s dreams.
Promised opportunity.
Most will never leave.

Supermarket gives her drones
a few loose pennies to hold
whilst hoarding for herself great piles
of diamonds, rubies, gold.
Supermarket's clones accept,
blind follow their leader's call.
If they didn't take her pennies, well...
they might have nothing at all.

Their withering queen, deflowering thought,
dictates when they should eat,
when they should rest, when they should smile,
free will is obsolete.
This isn't life.
These drones exist in undead misery.
How I fear their zombie touch
when I want to buy tea.

Watch flaking hopes decay,
fall wasted to the floor.
A zombie touch could shrivel your soul.

I can't go there no more.

Their stares en-flare fears I can't share,
shoot shivers through my blood.
One touch could shatter my heart armour,
*slash* *smash* *thud*

Friend, hero, valiant knight,
heart armour firm as metal,
survive these Supermarket ghouls
and I'll put on the kettle.

Song

Song

We're bob sledding
down Dusty Springfield's beehive,
wind alive with drums and strings.

Ears whipped, spin to ground.

Racing pulses.
Mine wins!
This songbird unlocks a mind cage.
Magic flits out,
dips behind curtain rail.
Close the window before it gets out!

We dance in the kitchen.
Sing to mug of tea.