The Scribble

I am a scribble

I scribble in the morning
I scribble in the daytime
I scribble in the evening

Words of Prey

Words of prey hunt
smaller words
and simple marks
like full stops, commas
and even the occasional
hyphen, if they happen
to catch one making a dash
for cover.


The whipping wind lashed the water
Shredding the shiny surface of the lake;
Rivers of rain ran down the windows
Of the weather battered house
And the linked trees lining the hilltop
Leant like old men into the face of the storm.


Soft snow falls –
The garden patched with white
Is sewn and seamed
With footprints; bare branches


wrecked submarine
sub-aqua pirate
prehistoric ghost
animated by salt ocean