I suffer from writer's turnip,
Sometimes paralysed by sprouts.
Taking the time to parsnip can help,
Or writing tomatoes for hours on end.
Imagination ignited finally beetroots,
Journeying down new cabbages,
The exultant joy at being able to carrot again!
Poem of the Week
Writer's Turnip
If only my desk was normally this tidy
Poem of the Week - Last Week
You to Me
You to me are the earth,
A mountain of strength when I become weak.
Without you I would fall,
Deep and long into the abyss of unfeeling.
You to me are a breath of fresh air,
You breathe life into me when I flag.
Without you I would die,
Suffocated in this world of uncaring.
You to me are the waters of this world,
Carrying away worries and pain.
Without you I would break,
Buried in sorrows and misery.
You to me are the sunlight,
Warming me to the heart.
Without you I would pale,
Unable to conquer despair.
You to me are a shining beacon,
I am drawn unerringly to your light.
Without you I am nothing,
But a moth searching in the night.
You to me are a way of life,
I need, want, love you.
Without you I would cease to exist,
Only a faint memory on a breeze.
This poem is from my first book, A Little Bit of Everything.
Poem of the Week - 2 Weeks Ago
97
97 people all sat in fancy pews.
Fluttering ties and tipsy bonnets all the saucy rage.
Tumbling down the aisle with acrobatic feats.
Thrilling quivering bottoms out of bottom polished seats.
This poem is from my first book, A Little Bit of Everything.
This poem is from my second book, A Little Bit of Light and Dark.