Queen of Spook

O what a fluke

my poem did spook!

I lived my art red

My tender lip bled.

Grim fangs were the cause

Cold iron of claws!

Putain (Bloody hell in French)

O bloody hell Putin

don't shove your jack boot in

The little boy Rosen

is blue, stiff and frozen.

Steel May with her clan

will zap your snow fan.

Ping and Pong!

O ping ping and pong

Do sing me your song

What is your duff story

from old jackanory?

So many emails

of light and dark tales.

Boom sounds your gong

I choke with the pong

of sin and great wrong.

Pee For Victory!

Dark is the hour

Red fox has power.

O come brave men

from field and fen

Let flow your pee

with shouts of glee!

Omega

O woe sweet earth I shriek in pangs!

The Zoid men storm with eyes of fire.

I gaze on souls who drip red gore

and cower in ranks to serve as clones.

Ode to a Wee!

O wee wee pour fast

I beg you don't blast.

Play not a mean ruse

to dapple my shoes

and stink out bright loos!

O Foul Host

O foul host

you shall be toast

in my log and coal stove.

There you will rove

till fire melts your bones

along with your rotten old crones!

No to Control

To Nanny, say boo!

Warp her thumbscrew.

Let words be your gong

to wake a bold throng.

Free minds are rich prey

to whip and turn grey.

At night I hear plots

A drone will tag thoughts!

May

May is the month of madness and moans

Mild folk bark fraught as moon dress glows.

Sun wars with wind that rips dear buds

Our nation is broiled in votes of fire.

Mama perdonami! (Mum forgive me!)

My bright saint and guide

Your secrets confide

My torn heart enclose

Come swift to compose.

Wash clean all grim faults

long hid in dark vaults.

O bless me with grace 

to see your dear face.

Ma Vie Est Belle

Sorry doc I’m so well

Calm down dear; ma vie est belle

My body ticks in time and place

Hold on tight and watch this space!

Love for a Glove

O my dear glove

I wore you with love!

Why have you fled?

For you my hand bled.

The poor nerves did seize

too numb to twist keys.

What spells did you cast

to rend our bond fast?

Levity

To bask in longevity

poke fun with pert levity.

Sing, sing and jig at absurdity

so long as your bread does rise with alacrity.

Joie de Vivre

At forty five

I come alive.

Forever afire

My muse to inspire.

Bursting with verve

I set out to serve.

Where shade and blight maim

and pure men drop slain

I seek to pour balm

and sing with dove calm.

In the Holy Place

Before your Red King bow still

In the glory of saints bend will.

O gaze on rose light

of Heaven’s delight.

To Mary most pure

festooned in azure

raise your fond pleas

and fall on proud knees!

Hymn to the Muse

O wing to me muse

Make haste to amuse

Glide down from your tower

and sign me with power.

Guard fondly this bower

so all who peruse

will bask in my light

and put woe to flight.

Hand of Grace

My hand is power

where art does flower

from tiny buds once green.

A pink rose nods; its head to preen

and deep scent fans wide lovely wings.

I feel the dart of Mystic Muse; o how my rapt heart sings

to send my light around the world aflame in woe and pangs

long chained in ire; so gnawed by fangs

of hate and thought made sour.

For Tortured Souls

When I’m in pain

my hell don’t disdain!

I sobbed for relief 

you sour words poured grief

and bile on my soul

that braved a fire hole.

Your eyes glowed with spite

it choked the kind light

so blood was crowned king

by the curse of a ring

that gored a pure wing.

Fire Drake

At all the buffoons

I fire my lampoons!

My proud name is dragon

who burns your prize flagon

that spews out red gall

served by a troll.

My gold pen is fierce

The critic to pierce

For I have sharp wit

The Drake Clan grit!

Exorcism of a King

Awake O liege

and hear my voice!

Return to the light

your kingly abode

where princes attend

in crimson enrobed.

Depart you shadows

that bind and entomb

this soul of grace

from realms elect.

Your hour is rent

a mage descends

fire swords await you

Begone fell shades!

Dibble Dibble

O dibble dibble said the blue tribble

who gave a loud bark at the moons.

A naughty puss crouched to do a huge piddle

that splashed bright streaks to form runes.

Day of Fire

I lost my light amid the bombs

Mage cove lay torn, afire and red.

A sun prince wailed, I saw bones rot

Dark steel fangs dined on pulp of kings.

The foul Zorg rose as fake man tribes

to scourge a realm God won for truth.

Beware the Ides of March

The black fiends curse a fair old wood

Wings down in mire and wan elves quake.

A wolf pack snarls; fangs rend God’s prince

The queen sylph mourns as blood chokes earth.

Benighted Brexit

O rise steel knight!

Sir, mount your fight.

Charge with fire lance

Give Brits fair chance.

Be bored, not Gored

Do not snore

near a boar.

If he should charge

with fangs at large

you’ll make an exit

unlike fake Brexit.

Bask in My Light

Lo, the muse wings 

Hark, a faun sings 

Shade not your wan face 

near powers of wood grace 

Bask in my light and gaze with delight!

Angel Wings

O come flame wings

enfold me in grace

to meet the wood maid

crowned by sea elves

who kissed a red moon

and wept at power

to pierce with thorns

the pure, fair doves.

Angel of Fire

I am the angel of ire

Hark, I come to bring fire!

Behold my dear child

Pure light you defiled.

He bowed to the world

Your hate soon unfurled.

Christ gave him the Cross

To you he was dross.

My God stood within

you entered in sin

Your white robes are stained

with the life you disdained.

My babe will arise

to the King of the skies

But you will greet foes

and drink of Hell's woes!

An Angel Descended

An angel descended

from God sore offended

to blaze out his reign

in the land of blood Cain.

He signed palms and brows

kings chanted pure vows.

In fear did moans rise

to the Lamb in the skies

who cast a rose thorn

to salve hearts forlorn.

A Window to my World

My song will be sung

when grace has won

and light fires bolts

where shades once roved.

Numb to dread I glide past doom

there is no sting or blood tipped fang

no dart to pierce my bliss and verve.

I fear not tongues that spit to rend

My torch is primed to bear much love.

In nooks divine I craft fond scenes

The muse enfolds my life of dreams

It is her words my quill inscribes.