Fa – the Green Dragon

A Place for the Odd Musings of an Expat Bristolian

I once saw your name
scribbled on a washroom wall.
Who are you, Kilroy?

back pew at the church
Middle of the road driving
Front row on a bus.

If it is quite true
that we all return to dust
who’s under my bed?

I am not afraid
I have become the hero
Set to slay dragons.

Nobody cares how
much you know until they know
just how much you care.

Six score years and ten,
Lady Liberty, a gift
from France, in friendship

My cursive writing
is like a drunken spider
with inky foot-prints.

I have become like
the Last of the Summer wine
In my Autumn years.

haiku in 3 verses.

The year is closing.
Time to appoint a new king;
sacrifice the old.

His phallus severed,
blood flows for a fertile spring.
He dies not in vain.

We too, cut Holly;
Red berries recall events,
of Druidic times.

Pete Burns has left us.

called by cardiac arrest.

But, our hearts don’t stop.