The poems don’t write themselves

The poems don’t write themselves

They are written by people

On pieces of paper held together with a staple

It’s that simple

Any poem will do

Put on a brew

Go online and buy a canoe

Become a Hindu

Start sniffing glue

Start saying more How-do-you do?

Travel to Kathmandu

Play Peekaboo

Cook a stew

Change shampoo

Have some Tiramisu

Change one negative point of view

Not me, You 

As we all share this planet which is really a type of Zoo

The poems don’t write themselves

Wrafter’s Afters RIP

It doesn’t need description
For many it was a prescription
An oasis on Harbour Street
An opportunity for friends to meet
Many antique weapons did the walls adorn
But tonight we feel forlorn
And slightly torn
A great man for good advise
A sound man who had time for anyone
Tonight we definitely feel forlorn
As we think and remember Sean