Poem of the Day — Class Sable

Class Sable


Partly detailed impaled in glass domes;

Complex Shards shining and sparkling

Crystal crevices clouds are dimming;

Echoing in brown stained shirt sleeves

Rolled up in congestion


To cool the blood;

The wrists are slashed with ice

A magnet vibrates and polarises attraction

A bonded prediction celebrated

A dire trench dug deep in history

To joust with

Soft touch clambering from a dust filled cupboard

Fluttering wings perched on the wire fence

Fallen foul of injustice


The curve is flat

The gap for the wealthy is collapsing

Dream of a scantily dressed swaggering salesman

With shining shoes

Blessed and separate; form a family

As the window shutters rattle

Like the snake in the bedroom

Playing the game

Mousing cats

Fur interest


Nipped in the slumber

Doused in perfume

Formal in antique dressers

Crushed in reality

Carved to the bone

The flesh



For decades

Found in tins

Of margins

And division



Copyright Patrick Turner-Lee1st November 2015

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s