She was clearly no longer a youngster,

unlovely in face and a bit overweight

but a regular customer in the bar

at the weekly local live band night.

Alone, she always tried to shimmy

but arms and legs seemed to threaten a fall

so one night I got her to dance with me

and she had no sense of rhythm at all !

And then last night she came in with a man -

a poor specimen, old, small and hunched

but I hope for them both it's more than a whim,

that he needs her as much as she needs him.

Varkala, Kerala, India

Faint stars enspangle grey-cloaked skies

while fishing boats like fireflies

sluggishly float the dark-draped sea

and wink the while at you and me

cliff high above the wave white beach

among the palm trees' rustling speech.

This evening's warmth will still remain

in England's winter cold and rain.

Disco

dance music playing

dance floor swaying

faces revolving

features resolving

lithe legs gliding

slim bodies sliding

arched arms enticing

cleavage exciting

youth ever yearning

beauty burning

Strange disco couple

She was blonde and beautiful,

slim and tanned and busty.

'She' was older, overdressed,

bony faced and paunchy.

She swayed and shimmied like a star

smiling at her audience.

'She' stumbled clumsy in the bar

out of step with the ambience.

She tolerated wandering hands;

'she' clasped her in the evening's plans

hoping later to have laid her ?

I wonder how much 'she' paid her.

I think I'm better looking than him

and certainly more muscular;

probably more intelligent,

more funny, less crepuscular.

So why has she gone off with him

and given me the cold shoulder ?

I've even got more money than him

because I'm so much older !

Road Hog

Just above the horizon and aiming at me

on a cloudless summer night with nothing hidden,

the full moon shone full beam the road ahead.

Of course I dipped my lights but the damn moon didn't.

Would you like a poem? What would it say?

That the waves in your hair make reason sway?

And your smiling eyes drive sense away?

And is that all?

Should you have a poem, what would it mean?

Me far too eager, much too keen,

my feelings tangled like never been?

But if feelings pall?

When you get your poem, what will it do?

Probably not endear me to you.

Nor to your feelings give any clue.

Best have no poem at all