Poem of the day – Bawling Basket

Bawling Basket

Tetchy when touched by weaning milk maid

The shape of the tight teacher, meddling with the minds of little sitters

Cross-legged and hoping to learn, grow big and what’s happy

Little chance, well big maybe, a roly poly crisp devouring demon

A pixie mixed dish for supper, cooked slowly with almonds

The taking victory, violent disturbed and lonely

No more practise time for the lip reading presenter

A dial for comfort, a soft touch rag time chieftain

Tribal kicking mercenary dinner, served with cloth clean precision

Like a new drill bit sharply biting into bone

Build up for burnt offering, a cremated painter; brick built broker

A fast food fanatic pops sickly into bowl bottom

Corked wind fine for the servant

Of time

December 5th

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2014

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