Christopher Clark

Inspired by a British detective show

In the back of the old school

I sat on a toadstool

Courting a spider

Without much to say

I brushed out my long hair

And practiced my dark stare

For the boys who come out

And beg me to play

 

I thought about Mary

And shocked a canary

With my long handled cigarette lips

I sent the pink lady

For a draught from Old Bailey

And drank it in three long sips

 

Old paint and wool moths

Like frost in a damp cloth

In tiptoes she tells where she’s been

She’s caught in a white lie

The candle says good bye

As the rush takes me back there again

 

Now the cat eats its ice cream

Our sins are washed downstream

In a two minute cold serenade

She is never forgotten

Where the old log is rotten

While I wait for her blood to fade

 

Steeples and church bells

Hold secrets I can’t tell

While Alice make razor leaf tea

You think you have won

But the ride’s just begun

There are hundreds or more

Just like me

 

-Zoe Richardson 

Author's Note

It's probably nonsense, but if you look you can find a certain dark meaning

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

This was fabulous, Zoe. I enjoyed the playful rhyme scheme mixed with witty descriptions. A delight of a read. Thanks for sharing. F.

[Zoe Richardson]

Aww! Thank you, kind sir. I've been busier than a one-legged man at a butt-kicking contest so not much time to post. There's a darker side to this poem, hidden in the whimsy, but I like putting together bits of nonsense and seeing what people get out of it. After all, poetry has no right or wrong answers!

[S.zaynab.kamoonpury]

I enjoyed the fab super rhyming scenes and they do make sense, seem to be a twist on nursery rhymes somewhat too. Kudos for this fantastic one!

Plz do read and comment my newest poem too