Junk Ship Sailing
Clipped in spice coloured jars of crystal clear imagination
A bickering bleeding heart
A memory carved from indignation
A nation lost in blood and narrow minded alleyways
Crumbling biscuits in scalding tea
Just dealing with the residue
Stuck to a spade like concrete
Old relationships grate on the day
Spinning webs of revenge in plunging hemlines
A crisp wind breaks the party of trainee bath tub builders
An outdoors pastime
In huts of mud; trawling swamps for spent ideas
Roll the shoulder; to ease the pain
Crack the head like an egg on the ceiling
Until the lamp is broken
Before the dawn breaks the silence
Swim in unison
With the foam filled waves
November 22nd 2016
Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2016
Poet's Corner 