Refuge of the Song Thrushes - Aindre Reece-Sheerin

Here we lay wings splayed, no longer Gossamer wings for we are laid flat side by side as once did we glide, and soar skywards like a glissando our speckles of brown, and

orange and gold, and the songs, oh the songs we sang of old, stories never to be told, the things we have seen, the places we have been
The sights below, hues of red blue and green.

Our refuge from the storm became our tomb.
The shrill of the wind was our Marche Funèbre
and huddled tightly, together in the foliage of the old Cypresses Leylandi, as she tried but in

vain, to hold and to hold again and again and again, but alas did she too succumb to the ravages of the storm and without malice or will, crush us together as when in life together

we sang but no more our unique song will be heard, no more will our colours flash, the worms now escaping and will continue to be the earth’s ploughs but as sure as there is a

spring, new Song Thrushes will sit on new branches and Sing and Sing and Sing

Aindre Reece-Sheerin

In Search of Cockles - Diane Scantlebury

I wonder where my cockles would be?
Pondered the small child
As she examined her knee,
She’d heard mummy say
That they could be warm,
So was there a cockle
Hiding under her arm?

Did daddy mention about the sea?
To reach them
Wouldn’t you have to go by boat?
So I wonder where my cockles could be?
No way could cockles
Be inside my throat,

Mummy also said something
About a bottom,
Surely that had to be
The wrong part,
The mystery of the cockles,
Why they needed heat
And kept you smiling,
What on earth did they
Have to do with your heart?

I’ll keep on searching for those cockles,
Who knows what I’ll find?
When I get them
I’ll put them somewhere secret,
And hope mummy and daddy
Won’t mind!

Diane Scantlebury

Changing The Bed - Jenny Hamon

I asked him to help me change the bed
But now I wish I’d never said
I regret asking because I’ve found
It’s turned out to be a battle ground

The fitted sheet was passed between
And laid out on the bed so clean
He pulled too much to fit his on
So I was left with almost none

When I complained about lack of sheet
He said I should have been more fleet
He got his on the bed alright
I’ve not enough, so now a fight!

And now the duvet to shove in
Into the cover nice and clean
I’ve got mine in the corners tight
But now he shakes it with all his might

The orifice is fastened up
And from my hand the duvet’s plucked
It’s shaken firmly up and down
And spread out on my clean night gown

His side is smoothed and patted down
While I stand there with a frown
On my side the duvet’s in a heap
I really don’t think I will sleep

My only answer is to wait
To rectify my nocturnal fate
I’ll strip the bed and start again
Even though he thinks he’s not to blame!

Jenny Hamon

Cop Show - Stephen A. Roberts

I'm looking for a TV cop show ending
Split screen, murder scene, forensics bending
Prime time, glamour crime, shotgun blasting
Helen Mirren, Kelly Reilly, central casting
Bent copper, bed hopper, always smoking
Drugs bust, bloodlust, SOCO poking
Old cop, girl cop, she good looking
Close up, bone cut, rookie puking
Blue lights, ripped tights, killer blow
Hardened rozzer, hard up prozzer, all on show
High rise, concrete sighs, urban hell
Dim lit, knife slit, pissy stairwell
Path lab, death slab, victim shorn
Legs splayed, flesh flayed, murder porn
TV cops, plastic cups, coffee vending
TV cop show, never ending, never ending

Stephen A. Roberts

Star Warrior - Chris Hudson

To navigate the eternal now
Seeking past and future in the present
Star warrior, eagle-like amongst the galaxies
Flowing your Technicolor slip-shifting
Aura of light, life and love
Amongst the stars - cry your dreadful cry:
WHY?

Chris Hudson