Sharpened Spurs

lost'n found

A poem written on the spur of a moment taken furtively

from another busy day slipped into a secret pocket of 

a too over voluminous jacket slipped on to cover a

favorite silk shirt. A mixing of double meanings designed

to thwart casual critics and entice the cleverer into time

wasteful mind games that entertain with ever twisting wit

and rewarding salutations. Sunday leisured pleasure

twixt sips of spiced black char.

Cooling too swiftly and biting at tongue roots 

in stinging frustration as the day ever screams

to be used in more suitable ways of activity

Spurring momentously in anguished flailing wrath

As the memory taste of the last dregs fades into

sugar salt bitterness of sweet saliva

Reviews

[LJW]

Whoa. I must be one oF the cleverer. Totally wasting time on my Blackberry, parked and waiting outsIde my daughter's workplace to pick her up. I loved a few lines. Char or chai? My font is too small. One's a fish and one's a tea. Sip fish or enlarge font?. You said "twixt" and that' s freaking awesome. Hello and waste some time reading some of a fellow New Englander's crap.( That'd be me)

[Sel Whiteley]

Now that is classic!This poem was gift because it had that northern humour that made me smile.

[asdarkeyesclose]

'to cover a
favorite silk shirt.'

i liked all the emotion in this. quite brilliant in its own way. fantastic.

[Ken Simm.]

Clever me old scouse. Clever.

[Ed Hart]

this left me with the taste of a huge smile on my otherwise unremarkable face