Long Evening Shadows

There is something so precious about those last warm rays of sun on a gift of a spring day

Like stolen pleasures when you should be bowing your head to the oncoming night

Don't you know it's the evening, and all the right and proper rituals should be observed

There is supper to be made and cleared, and baths to take and beds to make, curtains to be drawn and stories to be read. What are you doing here?

Well today is a gift, and we are showing it our gratitude.

What use is warm evening sunshine if you don't bask in it?

The night will come and we will eat toast, and bath tomorrow, and read stories in bed with crumbs on our faces and soil between our toes.

And the joyous evening sun will make giants of us, and our long shadows.

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bread bakin',

cake makin',

house cleanin',

Fred weanin',

clothes sewin',

slow growin',

family feedin',

path weedin',

rhyme writin',

NO FIGHTIN',

dragon slayin',

munky payin',

hot bitch, punk ass, Mutha Mother

A Good Drying Day

I shall hang clothes pegs from my ears in matching shades,

I shall drape a lemon yellow cotton fitted bed sheet (single size of course) around my shoulders like a toga,

And I shall perform a joyous waltz with my rotary airer,

In celebration of this day, this perfect day.

Oh you sun, you perfect sun. My heart reaches up to you and my trousers rise up to face your warmth.

Oh you breeze, you splendid breeze. You tug gently at my knickers without ever threatening to rip them off and toss them over the garden wall.

I shall wear these tools of my trade, they shall know me by my pegs,

And I shall cackle, and whip my washing machine into a frenzy,

Until it's drive belt whines and it's drum aches.

And at night I shall carry a pile of laundry up to bed with me, and feel it still warm and dancing gently against my arms.

A Death in the Shrubery

Green, shoots
Ivy, leaves
Love lies bleeding