Poetry

Eye Candy

An enormous platter arrives,

stacked on top of a toppling pillar

threatening to bury you,

but the prize is so great

it is the only thing you can see.

 

A remark can be harmless.

A remark can hurt.

 

When information is gleaned

and used for amusement,

gossip, whisper, giggle, snort:

the pillar will crumble completely.

 

And there will be no-one left

to recover you from the rubble.

Poetry

Arms

Arms that wrap, tight, safe

fingers holding firm on shoulders.

Massaging tired body, mind

release from the daily hounding.

Even if it’s just for a moment, less than a minute,

a second snatched in a silent room,

a quiet corner free from the hungry

crowd of nattering, gossiping, whispering

eyes that see much

yet nothing at all.

A hug

they think.

A promise

we say.

Poetry

High tea

And you can see them now

Crocheted hats and grey hair still styled

In the same way as the aging

Black and white photographs

Packed into lace covered albums

Only retrieved on special occasions

Chatting away to each other

During the short bus ride

To and from the local supermarket

Neighbours, nephews, sisters, aunts

All discussed in the round during

This bumpy, fume driven high tea

Complete with silvered sugar cubes