The Road
The road is filled with burning wood
people leaving, told they should
grab some clothes and hit the road
and hear the windows behind explode
Pigs in the barn
Pigs in the barn
the farmer’s gone out for a spell
his Niece is covering for him
she’s had to lay down, she’s not well
Castle in my Mind
My neighbour, with his driveway entrance,
hardwood double doors
and the multi-level rooms,
over gleaming, silk-screen shores
Freedom
This freedom of speech, how do you defend it
is it so close to your heart that you need to befriend it
dignified silence, jettisoned, forgotten
views contrary, sullied, putrid and rotten
The Writer
My days are numbered I know that well
it is why I’m stuck here in this living hell
the biscuits stale, the tinkle of tea
and the nurses told not to bother with me