To light a candle

With no wish

But to have light

What a wonder,

The world discovered blue,

It spread like wild fire

Across our skies.

A tree inside

The child’s glimmer

Of the forest.

A mistake in the hands,

Leaves a child

In adulthood.

I know the moon is still up there,

In its absence I feel self-conscious.

Paper birds

Land real

On chimneys and roofs.

The wind formed wheel

Of a battered leaf

Rolling on the road.

The bus drives past lampposts,

It is almost daylight

On the pavement.

The snow

Falls in the

Night Forest.

A house

Is built

To fill.

The sun has gone crazy,

The lid is green,

A surprise foretold

Following the sky.

Opening her bright pink bloom,

Spring came walking down the stairs,

With rose crowned knuckles.

Stuck in the bath,

A curled up island

Compressed stomach

Fluttering.

In the quiet,

I’m OK

This is OK.

Ding Dong,

All the artists have come out today.

Ding Dong,

All the artists have gone in again.

The skies pronounced eye,

Spring on a tree,

A branch bending the hue.

A million years,

There are no more biscuits,

I am a million years older,

The world is flat.

Down the swallow,

Up the tree,

Where’s the mince meat

Meant for me.

I stand,

Throwing what I can

At the passing aeroplanes.

Looking for my marks

In the hands of others,

A day passes

With unfamiliarity.

The inverted sky,

Like an open soup spoon,

Polished daily,

The sun starts to shine.

See, my mouth is empty,

And my scissors need sharpening.

When I get them back from the shop,

I will cut out letters and put them on my front door.

Saying,

My mouth is empty.

Devils Response

I hear the devil laughing,

I am a step behind,

Re-assuringly too slow

To catch him.

To see my face

Would kill me.

Manor Park Station

The sky hung

Like hands

On the buildings

My eyes waved back,

Skimming the clouds

Like stones,

Sinking into the yellow moon.