Graffiti - Stephen A. Roberts

The tags remain
On the overpass
Under bridges, girders
On countless spans

Illegal artistry that
Makes you look
Past the pages
Of your book

He was no Banksy
But he was gifted
Brightening up
The concrete brickwork

Dodging goods trains
And the cops
He honed his craft
Between the stops

Now he’s gone
Yes it’s a pity
He didn’t hear
The rescheduled Intercity

Stephen A. Roberts

Image : Pixabay - user_id:652234

The Custard Fields - Tony Gardner

The  Custard  fields  are  now  in  bloom
It  must  be  harvested  as  soon
As  we  can  get  the  wet  crop  sold
And  turn  the  yellow  into  gold.
The  neighbours  so  admire  the  sight
And  beg  and  plead  with  all  their  might 
To  let  sunshiney-bright  plants  stay
And  cheer  us  just  one  other  day.

But  if  we  hesitate  we  may
Miss  the  market, lose  our  pay.
The  country's  crying  out  for  this
Sweet  yellow  custard   for  their  dish
Of  rhubarb,  apple  pie  or  prunes 
It   can't  be  a  day  too  soon
Tomorrow  t'will  be  cut  and  canned
And  there'll  be  smiles  throughout  the  land.

Tony Gardner

PS   I  hope  you  know  this  is  a  jape
It's  really  just  a  field  of  Rape.


Image : Pixabay - blickpixel

May Is Back - Richard Le Gallienne (1866 - 1947)

May is back, and You and I
Are at the stream again -
The leaves are out,
And all about
The building birds begin
To make a merry din:
May is back, and You and I
Are at the dream again.

May is back, and You and I
Lie in the grass again, -
The butterfly
Flits painted by,
The bee brings sudden fear,
Like people talking near;
May is back, and You and I
Are lad and lass again.

May is back, and You and I
Are heart to heart again, -
In God's green house
We make our vows
Of summer love that stays
Faithful through winter days;
May is back, and You and I
Shall never part again.

Richard Le Gallienne


Image : Pixabay - GuentherDillingen

Ebb And Flow - Marianna Pliakou

The beaches here
never grow old.
Just as the rocks raise
their bulky bodies from the deep,
they are covered
by the next wave.

The islanders
know from children
of the constant flux –
the sands that become seabed
that becomes sands.

They have learnt to gauge
and test themselves against time
as the sea tests
its strength
in swallowing.

Marianna Pliakou


Image : Guernseypoets

Pie In The Sky - Donald Keyman

When your family can’t be fed
And it’s almost cheaper to be dead
You take stock and wonder why
Our leaders all want pie in the sky

Their ludicrously grandiose schemes
Will rip the purse at its seams
Looking for money we don’t have
Cos it was spent by Uncle Gav

They want a shining mini Monaco
Where only the moneyed rich can go
For tax-free fuel and their super yachts
While the proletariat can only watch

Grandstanding in the House they boast
Of their imaginary tunnel on the coast
An airport that can handle B-52s;
It’s a shopping list writ by fools

Donald Keyman


Image : Guernseypoets/Pixabay - pierre9x6