Sunday, 31 August 2014

Red Arrows

Eight red hawks over Dorset fly,

A diamond glinting ruby red.
The grinding wail growing in force,
The whoosh of wind and air surprised
Sending eyes and necks across the sky
Searching for the hawks circling anew,
A canvass of red, white and blue,
Smoke that smothers and chokes the clouds,
A spectacle and work of art,
The perfect arrow through a heart.
Surely the pinnacle of delight,
Graceful excellence in the sky.

Thursday, 7 August 2014

Baritone and Scone

In my head a vibraphone
Makes me drop a semitone
To find what I need
As I stick the reed
Back into my mouth

To pitch the melody
Just right for milady
(Out of shot)
And the other lot
Who came down south

For a scone with cream
And jam, while steam
Issues from my horn
Blowing a smooth ballad.
I'll have some salad

Later. When I'm done.

But for now I'm playing
For everyone and saying
Eat your scone
And listen to my

And please turn off
Your mobile 'phone ...
Just allow the sound
Vibrate and moan
A soulful drone.

You might enjoy the sonorous
Warmth of the saxophone's
Rejoice ...
It's truly glorious

Is a baritone and scone.