Poem of the Day –Separate Chances

Separate Chances


Have a dash and see the smiling endeavours of the dancing teams

Ringing bells, selling, flags flying somersaults on boldly supported sticks

New tricks in boxes, like petals brimming with inventions

One wheeled cart that act as eyes recede into sockets


Frisky, ball bouncing, level playing field; bizarre

Welded to the kitchen floor for safety

A silver bucket; falling into wild dreams

A fantasy


Hot in creased cotton dresses

Vests torn for broken effect, coloured and twisted

Dangling from the line with the newly pressed, crisply folded curtains

Bought from a shop with regularly cleaned windows


Keep away from the dust

Sneeze and blow away the forever growing apathy

Lets fly together with kites

Into the distant horizon


Mapped by mugs, marking the distance clearly

Smashed by wooden balls

Crushed by concrete bunkers

Built to hide a reason


A reason to be guessing: what the steam is about

Without a kettle but from the grounds

The sound of concrete




June 6th 2016

Patrick Turner-Lee Copyright 2016

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