a man who cried for me

That day
When you broke down

I held you in my arms,
Astonished by your pain.

I had used up all my tears,
Long since our ‘child’

Had ripped away.

But you? You were so calm.
So matter of fact.

I thought
you hadn’t cared.

Now I understood.
You’d saved your tears
For me.

Feared my loss
More than any child who
‘might have been.’

I’d never known such love.

I cradled you that day
And stroked your hair. Silently
Swallowing my pain.

Marveling at what I’d gained.
A man who cried for me.

Mandy Edwards (c) 2017

 

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The Monarch

The Monarch

One warm and sunny Christmas day,
A Monarch butterfly sailed away.
Her wings sun kissed, her colours bright,
She’d been transformed in the night.

For like the babe on Christmas morn,
The time was right to be reborn.
A bright new flame to light the way,
This warm and sunny Christmas Day.

Mandy Edwards. (c) 2017

 

A nonsense poem

Petrichor Pete ran down the street,
His univocal all of aquiver,
Desperate to see his sweetheart’s pugree,
But alas she wouldn’t deliver.

With a toss of her gossamer, she was away
As fast as her pastiche allowed,
Her seraglio loose like a susurrus goose,
As she sashayed her way through the crowd.

Pete used his frugal to shout like a bugle,
His dulcet fair dripping with sweat,
But soon it was lithe that his bombinate wife,
Had no interest in muzzling him yet.

So Petrichor Pete with wherewithal feet,
Nefariously wandered back home,
For lack of pugree, I think you’ll agree,
Means man must languor alone.

 

Mandy Edwards © 2017

A Villanelle

Cock a doodle doo.

I squeeze shut my eyes; put a pillow on my head,
It’s three in the morning and its dark outside,
Cock a doodle doo, the roosters said.

Three-thirty comes as I wriggle in bed,
The rain pelts down; all sleep is denied.
I squeeze shut my eyes; put a pillow on my head

There’s nothing to do, my book is read,
It’s four in the morning and hope has died,
Cock a doodle doo, the roosters said.

The cat is purring and its fur has shed,
My nose starts to tickle; the clock ticks, “Five,”
I squeeze shut my eyes; put a pillow on my head.

Five bloody thirty, all sleep has fled,
I’ve cursed all the pleasures of the country side,
Cock a doodle doo, the roosters said.

“It’s six.  Rise and shine,” the old man said,
He’s stone deaf and all bushy eyed.
I squeeze shut my eyes; put a pillow on my head,
Cock a doodle doo, the roosters said.

Mandy Edwards © 2017