I guess most inventions come from the child mind
the bow'n arrow, from the fire-stick?
fueling progress of the human kind,

a map, for sure, showing where dinner hides,
pat-a-cake, pat- Say' I made me a brick!''
I guess most inventions come from the child mind,

hey, Maw'n Paw, let's buil a cave, outside
the Catalhoyuk way (neolithic)
to fuel progress of the human kind,

James Watt and others, anyone can find
had their ideas young when the mind's quick
most inventions come from the childlike mind,

I guess the adults then got on the grind
after the child has given it a lick
this fuels progress of the human kind,

maybe the kids grew something on which they dined
perhaps hand-rearing a lamb or a chick
most inventions come from the childlike mind
not so very far from the poet's mind.

You bought me cheaply at the store
you own me now i'm your copyright
insert your  words then insert more
i'm a notebook in which you'll write,

You took me home you broke me wide
you flutter my leaves now you break me more
to lie flat on your desk so pens will glide
across my pages it's what i am for.

will you rule you lines with a heavy hand
this ****** page lies waiting for your words
to run your pen over at your command
your forceful words, will they be heard?

It isn't the hard work of which I hate
to pluck meaningful phrases from thin air
it's Villanelles are hard to fabricate,

I can roll my sleeves, to tackle work, mate
and tackle with will but even with care
it isn't the hard work of which I hate,

or the sad fact that self will self berate
or that one can't insert with some kind of flair
it's villanelles are hard to fabricate,

but I'll battle on, correct or delate
you've heard of the phrase lol of  ''she who dares''
it isn't the hard work of which I hate,

I guess it's not part of the human estate
or of a struggling with human affairs
it's villanelles are hard to fabricate,

but, I shall end now, it is getting late
and I'm getting headaches from this page glare
it isn't the hard work, of which, I hate
but villanelles, are hard, to fabricate!

I say,  '' You are too young to smoke''
he never answers, never lets on,
just pulls lighter from pocket, warm,
flicks his thumb, gets me hot.

I wear petticoats two by two
one is red and one is blue
pretty shoes both buckled by gold
skip me to where 'er i go,

Those slugs'n snails'n puppy dog tails
pet at me but they all fail
they will court me where 'er they can
but i'm in love with a pretty gal,

I wear petticoats two by two
one is red one is blue
I'm sure one day we will be wed
with brand new Bonnets, upon our heads.

(a villanelle)


There'll be a new jewel shinning tonight
in such a brightness far beyond compare
in outshining a thousand stars feeble light,

though a thousand light years above in height
in scintillating rainbow colours rare
there'll be a new jewel shinning tonight,

and I will wish upon it in my plight
that we may join in celestial pair
to outshine the ten thousand stars in sight,

as we collide in our final goodnight
to dim this unearthly sun's mocking glare
then there'll be new jewels shinning tonight,

but I am a feeble spark I have no might
my only hope to see your golden hair
will outshine a thousand stars feeble light,

as I gaze on you in your shroud so white
how could they so dare to take one so fair,
I need to see a new jewel tonight
outshine ten thousand stars unholy light.

But Jason never held such gold
when his men cried ''see, he has the Fleece!''
it seems now that my soul was sold
with you dear child sat on my knee.

Blessing me with this wealth of life
my only child produced such joy
her prattling now so shrilly piped
as she takes my specks for her toy.

Her strength in limb and in my pride
I cry '' see how she grips my ears
and almost stands!'' tis all from I
and swear, '' tis nails which bring the tears.''

(a triolet)


I wish I was a simple dream
never needing to waken up
unaware of all worldly schemes
I wish I was a simple dream,

not knowing of eternity
needing neither to eat or sup
I wish I was a simple dream
never needing to waken up.

(a rondeau)


Our Nursing folk all heroes now
front line troops embattled and how
in the face of this enemy
just carry on so bravely
professional to the last, unbowed.

If it ends will they take a bow
then slip back out of sight somehow
return to normal and just be
Our Nursing folk?

Those cool calm hands on sweaty brow
of Jane of Kate, Mohammad, vouch
that while they can they'll always be
there, taking care of you, of me
and this their dedication vows,
Our Nursing folk.

a triolet


So sweet a life it is when hand
is free to wave or wield a pen
not at command of any man
so sweet a life it is when hand,

may merely wave its magic wand
to have a man completely penned
so sweet a life it is when hand
is free to wave or wield a pen.