In a Village of Many Ash Trees

Palm Sunday 2014

the clock of St. Leonard will tell only

one time. Two minutes to eight.

It’s four-thirty,

a shattered sunlight catches on

gravestones, hides names from view,

keeps the late of this parish, secret;

causes you to struggle as you read their fate

in polished marble or mis-placed lead letters.

Sad tales of...

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False Prophet

Magnificently

Resurrected antichrist

Not the messiah

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On hearing about Easter eggs going on sale on Christmas Eve

No chance for cupid

To pick up his bow

Not yet melted

Those men of snow

When what was on

Shop shelves

Full show

But  a shiny

Easter egg

Left uneaten

Chocolate money

Leaping Lords

Replaced by bunnies

We're still in winter

Though a little sunny

Christmas on 

Last legs

Maki...

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Eostre

Not the cross or the thorns

or the blood or the nails,

not the spear or the whip

or the rumble of stones

from the mouth of a tomb.

Not the hatred and bigotry,

the small minded hypocrisy

of this clan or that clan

whose father is biggest

or most feared or cherished.

Not the myth and the fable

espoused by blind acolytes

heaven bent on venge...

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There are homes and then there's children's homes

There are children's homes and then there are children's homes 

The one I knew was a home from home

Age four mum and her sister set one up 

With hard work, love and courage 

The biggest house my young eye's had seen

A large dappled wooden rocking horse to gallop and whoop for good

A magic garden with its own small wood

Falle...

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Take a bumble bee and bunny rabbit
Then introduce them to some woolly sheep,
Together as a group they will inhabit
A brand new home forever theirs to keep.

Pick a bunch of tulips for some beauty
A shiny button too for some pizazz,
Add a bunch of grapes to make it fruity
Perhaps some feathers for some razzmatazz.

Ensure a nest made out of shredded paper
Is filled with wobble-headed bab...

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Foot-torn, the path of leaves.

Dead, borders are green, still.

I am white.  I turn.

I am now looking with paled eyes,

across a broken pit of river

up, above some untidy shack;

the train on the hill climbs,

smoke billows, a raincloud summoned

from beyond.

I turn back and see rows,

of autumn-blushed houses

fall silent on this minute.

You are only a passing mist.

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I'm eggshausted and eggsasperated -
I shouldn't have eggspected less
But in fact it's eggsceded my worst eggspectations
I've had too many eggs - eaten to eggsess
 
I'm not one for eggsageration
I prefer to be eggsact
But, I'll eggspound and eggspress myself further
For some sympathy, I wish to eggstract

Well, I took some advice from an "eggspert"
An eggstravigant egghead, called Ed
Eg...

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Roses are red?

No they're not!

They're an assorted mix bag of browns.

Cocoa, caramel, mocha and mousse.

Tasty truffles a treat for the tongue,

not just for Easter

but all year long.

Buy em on Easter Monday if you're skint

reduced price,

full taste,

eat my body weight in Lindt.

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