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A Hundred Gourds 4:4 September 2015

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page 8  

A Fanfare of Trumpets

'we clear junk'
howl of the wind
lash of the rain

our cheeks turn rosy
as the log fire roars


deep in the woods
the flickers at night
of a fairy kingdom

heard but not seen
the bubbling of a spring


***

‘look mummy look’
that's the moon up there
the little girl shouts

a shower of brown leaves
covers the dead fox


across the poster
for the firework display
the word CANCELLED

an explosive combo
but he still loves her


as they leave the church
a fanfare of trumpets
declares their union

on entering the convent
mum softly weeps


***

enclosed in its tank
the snake slithers
round and around


the open air stage
lit by the moon

their loud voices
here, there
and everywhere


attached to balloons
they let go their poems

early morning bang
and the old water tower
is razed to the ground


every half hour a bus
circles the new estate

***

was Ravel the son of
a: a dustman b: a dentist
c: a watchmaker?

the wind-up Easter chick
whirrs into action


pink blossoms
racing together
as if of one

my mower checked
I await a dry day




Diana Webb & Frank Williams

Composed via email
28 February 2015 to 02 April 2015




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