Le Catioroc - Oscar Milde

At certain phases of the Moon
they’d congregate, toad-faced, to mutter incantations,
where tainted soil absorbed their charnel reek,
and writhe like snakes around
their hairy-hoofed messiah’s horny thighs.
These were no beauties:
in lanes, men passed them by
with eyes averted and a murmured prayer,
while goodwives crossed themselves
and hid away their brats.
When tides, Moon-sung, made pulses quicken,
they’d cast finery aside and, naked, dance a power alive
to curdle milk,
or sour a womb
or make strong men their slaves.

Oscar Milde

All The Wrong Reasons - Lyndon Queripel

You were down by the river
In the streams of yesterday's dreams
You can't forget but forgive her
Only time will bring healing
Love flies on a broken wing

You were looking for answers
To deny a troubled sky
But only shadow dancers
And grey clouds passed by
Love turns a blinded eye

All the wrong reasons
All the wrong rhymes
Between the seasons
And the changing times

You were lost in the night
With nowhere to share
And no sight of the light
Did you just misunderstand
Love deals a crooked hand

You were beyond communication
Without any role to control
Driving through your imagination
Too far in a street beat car
Love shines on a falling star.

Lyndon Queripel

The Harvest Moon - Jenny Hamon

The harvest moon shines bright and clear
Lighting my way, you seem so near
It seems to say as summer wanes
I will return to you again

A fond farewell is hard to say
But sitting by this moonlit bay
The memories of summer days
Fade into an autumn haze

The September equinox is nigh
And days of summer soon will die
But memories of this lunar night
I’ll treasure 'till the spring's in sight

Jenny Hamon

Flowers In Our Hair - Tony Bradley

If you're like me, around sixty-five
you'll know exactly what I mean
when all the young people felt really alive
and global peace seemed more than a dream.

If you're younger, although you weren't there
you may get the vibe from this rhyme
for us wrinklies, it's a bit of nostalgia
the world was better, for a very short time.

You didn't have to go to 'Frisco
'cos love was all around, babe, in the air
pretty girls with gorgeous short dresses
and my light blue, brushed denim, 'South Sea Bubble Co.' flares and long, curly hair.

(PIECE TO CAMERA)
I must apologise, because in the previous verse
that last line was conspicuously, ridiculously long,
but the whole sentence brings back such memories
to leave any word out, somehow seemed wrong.

The fashions were all different, new styles and tones
frilly shirts, flares, kippers and clogs,
music for everyone, The Beatles and Stones
Dusty, Elvis, Dylan, and Troggs

I could wax lyrically, ad nauseum, about the cars around then
I know I'm just another silly old fart
but a lot of them are still cherished today
'cos like us, they're really works of art.

I honestly don't know if anyone will read this
but I seem to make more sense in a rhyme
I'm hoping that some folks, around my age
have been reminded of their own happy time.

Tony Bradley

Conned Or...? - Donald Keyman

Condor's excuses have now become legion
dropping their bombshells and crippling the region
the States are off hiding behind their closed doors
searching in vain for the lost penalty clause

This winter will be grim for sure, and no doubt
the olives and hummus will all run out
there'll be frenzied pleas on Facebook and Twitter
for some fresh tapenade and a few slices of pitta

Yes, the Liberation has passed us by once more
in an echo of that false dawn of 1944 -
no-one will come with their fags and their Hershey's
to soothe the Donkey's frustrated curses

History rewritten, twice shy twice bitten
no sign of help from good old Great Britain,
will our dear Channel Islands never be freed -
from the sometime occupiers of our silver seas?

Donald Keyman