Time to slake our thirst for words

A cerebral circle of wordsmithery

Burying two dozen rats

In your neighbour’s garden

Under their prized rose patch

Whom you’d never liked one night

There’s a rat in the allotment –

What am I going to do?

Don’t worry – every little thing’s all right

So the broken beasts of shadows that speak

A bird, drawn in sand,...

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Leisurely and alone,

I was wandering in the museum garden.

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Flowers were completely gone,

But deep green summer leaves fully grown,

And on each branch

Small birds all the way chirping:

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Certainly for me a perfect afternoon

To be seated still and calm,

To be lost in poem-reciting!

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But suddenly a wind arose

When a human voice caught my ear,

Saying low ye...

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a word

whispered

in secret

a name

dropped

there-after

a woman

reflected

​there-over

The transparent sunlight

stirred by her 

thin fingers

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