Mabh Savage
Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
NaPoWriMo Day 18: No Real Use
No real use for these
He sighs
And plucks the flower
Now endangered
But because his land
Is full of them
He won’t believe
It’s true
A weed to him
Plant based vermin
Taking over
Invasive
He is unwilling to see
He is lucky
To have these rare
And valued blooms
Gentle white petals
Wilt and fade
As he muses there is no real
Use for these.
NaPoWriMo Day 17: Bean Bags?
Is it a bag of beans?
Who decided that
Tiny polystyrene beads
Were actually beans?
Are they named for dried beans?
Fresh beans?
Baked beans?
I don’t understand.
And why is it a bag?
It’s a seat.
A pouffe.
A tuffet, perhaps.
A stool, at a stretch.
But a bag?
Nothing is stored
Or carried,
Except its own beans.
Am I a meat bag?
Is the sofa a wood bag
Stuffing bag
Cloth bag
Spring bag
Bean bag?
I guess, to be fair
Polystyrene bead filled lump
Just doesn’t have the same
Ring.
NaPoWriMo Day 16: Hamsters
(Prompt from eight-year-Old Nathan)
They’re funny, they’re furry
They look so sweet
But once they see fingers
It’s time to eat
Hamsters are cute
Hamsters are small
They adore that wheel
And the weird rolling ball
But their little black eyes
Are watching you sleep
Creepy…
NaPoWriMo Day 15: Old Creaker
Creaking like a ship at sea
Sails rattling and flapping
Snapping in a stiff
Ocean breeze
Salt in the wounds
Groaning, moaning,
Straining to rise
Rise above the decks
Like a looming wave;
I only trickle gently
Towards the final shore.
NaPoWriMo Day 14: Short Straw
Who could take a piece of straw
And build a house
A home
A hearth
Of heart and bone
Then live alone
No love
No joy;
No distractions.
This straw was not the short one.
NaPoWriMo Day 13: Easter
Easter starts with a corpse
I wrote
I didn’t mean to be
Disrespectful
But the man dies
In a terrible way
It seems so sad
So depressing
A man who wanted
Kindness
Respect
Compassion
And yet received none
Or very little
Did we have to say he was the
Son of God?
Can’t we accept that humans
Are capable of this?
NaPoWriMo Day 12: Baby Cuddles
Soft cuddle
Sleepy baby
Nuzzling into my shoulder
A vast improvement
On the head butts of earlier
The pinch punch grab
Of curiosity
Without limits
I wouldn’t change it
Each bruise a medal
From my 17 month old
But this nuzzling
Snuffling
Shuffling cuddle
This is my real reward.
