Sometimes we find ourselves in the most unlikely places.
In your bedroom of eight summers,
Rounding up all 'My Little Ponies'
And herding them to new pastures,
Then stumbling on playful pixies
And causing them to disappear
On sight of unsympathetic humankind,
And down to the virgin plaster
Where I found an ancient mark,
A drawing in black pencil,
Bold lines and mirror-writing,
The outline of a bulbous figure,
Gasping like the Man in the Moon,
Large head and eyes,
But with a stick body,
Primitive and yet familiar,
A universal Everyman
In the cave of civilisation,
And that back-to-front writing?
I read it to and fro, to and fro,
And managed to decipher it -
'DADDY'.
Chris Fernie, 2006
Poetry by Chris Fernie
Read 479 times
Written on 2006-10-11 at 23:38
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First contact
I stripped back the fashionable yearsIn your bedroom of eight summers,
Rounding up all 'My Little Ponies'
And herding them to new pastures,
Then stumbling on playful pixies
And causing them to disappear
On sight of unsympathetic humankind,
And down to the virgin plaster
Where I found an ancient mark,
A drawing in black pencil,
Bold lines and mirror-writing,
The outline of a bulbous figure,
Gasping like the Man in the Moon,
Large head and eyes,
But with a stick body,
Primitive and yet familiar,
A universal Everyman
In the cave of civilisation,
And that back-to-front writing?
I read it to and fro, to and fro,
And managed to decipher it -
'DADDY'.
Chris Fernie, 2006
Poetry by Chris Fernie
Read 479 times
Written on 2006-10-11 at 23:38
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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