THE CURIOUS TALE OF WALTER COLLINS.

That curious Collins child
replaced with the face
of a child with less grace
and honour.
Your honour I swear
I never touched a hair
on that young chaps head
and now you say he is dead.
I axe you,
what man could I be
to destroy the innocence
and peace
of an angelic child?
Children are wild.
They should be penned up
like chickens, and hens
and I pen this lack of confession.
For you see I'm on a misson
to save this neck from the rope.
He was scooped up and cooped up
to tame him and frame him
and his curious, curious life.
I axe you.
Why would I take the life
of such an angelic child
with wings wild and in need of clips?
You could say he flew away
only to be replaced
with the face of a child
who had less grace.
Your honour I swear
I never touched a hair
on that young chaps head
and now you say he is dead.
I axe you.

PEA GREEN QUEEN.

The rocking boat
the pea green stance
the violin
the vials dance
and trickle down wet worn skin
into water
diluting sin.

The crooked boat
the poets play
the oars on both sides
now in affray
bashing hard and beating water
to save me from
wandering from her.

Closer closer closer still
with withered hope and free will
the crooked boat
its drifting dew
to end its wanders
and doubts for new.

The poet sits
and writes some lines
but the letters translate
into vines
the water trickles
onto words
they are not needed
to cure these hurts.

The poet sits
its all thats needed
for this crooked boat
so poorly treated.
With passion and fire
it has been heated
and with wary haste
the two are greeted.

A united front
in shy smiled haste
this boat and poet
full of grace
take to the lake
to find new parts
of themselves
and of their hearts.

These beating, bashing oars on blue
thus keep me from wandring from you.
The reign holds me in,
the warmth of my queen
who drifted lonely
as a boat pea green.

CATERPILLAR BOY.

There was a caterpillar boy
whos refusal to sleep would annoy
his rather startled, brutal mother
"to have a child i shant have bothered!"
she snorted with a horrid glee
for little grubs she had a greed
to eat them all with Father Pa
a butter bean with battered car.
Theyd drive caterpillar boy round town
and take him to cafes then drown
him in a waterfall of salt
then before they dined theyd buy a malt
liquer then lick their confused son
who theyd try to roll into a bun.
This gave the poor lad a phobic stance
to being trapped so he would dance
and dodge and skip
avoiding his fathers liqourice whip
and trip of the tongue as he would leer
and tell the boy hed taste best in a year.
The parents held back on their meal
he'd be best at christmas they did feel
but by that time it was too late
and they did suffer an empty plate
for caterpillar boy faced his night frights
and slept in a tomb that grew skin tight
until he broke out and burst anew
into butterfly boy and flew
far and wide for he was free
from those who were so full of greed.