Buddhist Poem
I wrote this poem for an SGI Buddhist Discussion Meeting I was unable to attend. Hope you enjoy it.
My Hands
Baby hands, slippery with dribble, Fascinating. Next, with fingers chubby and sticky, Practising with a teaspoon, Diving into a Squat Tiggywinkle dish. New year’s Eve,
‘TWAS THE ALTERNATIVE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
‘Twas the night before Christmas and from our abode, I could see the lights glowing, On Pebbleditch Road. The stockings were hung, By the chimney
Wonder bra
When I was a teen, so absorbent, My friend and I would share our coins, To buy a magazine. We’d huddle on a bench
Walking the Dog in the Chalk Meadow
These daisies, Ox eyed, Damask and canary, Brushing my legs, They dance in soft air in their thousands, with devout faces that watch the sun
On Reading 50 Shades of Grey – by a dear friend
This ‘pome’ was written by a good friend, whose hobby is writing what she calls ‘ditties’. This particular piece made me laugh, and mirrors my own