Confession To A Murder - Donald Keyman

To a woodland glade 
with a brand new spade 
in the middle of the night
I know that it’s not right
I’ve claimed one more
I’m beyond the law
You better stop me soon
From playing my tune
But maybe it’s too late
Here comes the middle eight
There’s a deadly toll
In that grassy knoll 
They’re beside the tracks
I’m hazy on the facts
But you did your best
It’s lucky I confessed

Donald Keyman

Image : Pixabay - jarmoluk

Envy - Oscar Milde

I don’t know why I envy him.
I think that he should envy me.
He may attend a fancy gym,
look GQ cool, write poetry,
play the guitar, be tall and slim,
and get in smart night-clubs for free,
but, to my mind, he’s really dim,
the fool behaves impulsively,
goes off to Paris on a whim
and never hints at taking me.
He thinks me dull, he calls me prim,
he’s puzzled by my secrecy.
I may be short and hardly trim
but I’m a billionaire, you see.

Oscar Milde

The Keeper - Diane Scantlebury

She knows
Which side her bread’s buttered,
She sits
Her long manicured nails, pristine,
Tap tapping
As she mindlessly types,
She sees all
Hears and knows everything,
She was there
When he promised to love
And to cherish,
She was present
When
He said he’d be faithful,
She knew
But turned a blind eye,
She listens
To every conversation,
Says nothing
As each day’s drama unfolds,
Web spin,
Spinning lies and deceit,
She’s a keeper
And he’s her boss,
She’s a keeper
A keeper of secrets.

Diane Scantlebury

Walk of Shame - Diane Scantlebury

You saw me
And you smiled knowingly,
That early morning as I passed
Walking the walk of shame,
I nodded back in acknowledgement
But my nonchalant expression lied,
For I was in heels
Still wearing last night’s clothes,
With mascara clogging
My tired, sleep deprived eyes,
I remember you gripping your newspaper
Almost in unspoken judgement,
Tightly under your arm
As you made your way to breakfast,
And I? From a secret rendezvous,
Somewhere you’d never know.

Diane Scantlebury