Poem of the Day – Gripped in Seasons

by paturnerlee

Gripped in Seasons


Picked in singing yellow; an outing to a window

Seen now as a public relation guru

Sat under a fee; questioning the latest target

Set inside an answer: sheet twisted and tangled

Burning up the budget


Soil dripping from the gutter

Utter disgust that the birds kept waiting until winter


Stolen dishes crash in unchallenged cacophony

A lot of me placing scorn on continued blaming.


Gristle chews to squeeze out the marrow

A sparrow picks up the hawk sized breakfast.


Scrappy iron gathering rust

At best a manoeuvre


A third of a nightmare

A trip to purgatory


Still can’t be beggars


A third of a nightmare


Sheet shaken before bedtime

To risk the crumbs being ingested

Festering in the jar


Bar stool floating

All the others judging and gloating

What can change

Just the others are doting


Creases freshly ironed in the heat

In the moment

Stuck to the face of time

Left like a guest on fire



September 8th 2017

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright


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