Anyhow

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Anyhow


Borrowed a new book today
from the library down our way;
following closure for deep-clean,
the library, not the book I mean.

Anyhow, it’s open now
so, off I toddled to say ciao
to girl who works the children’s floor,
who’s French, but I can’t say bonjour.

Anyhow, a book she lent
me, full of poetry and meant
to sharpen up my mental powers,
relax me in my darkest hours.

Anyhow, the book did not;
abounding with pretentious rot,
no sense of rhythm, rhyme or meter,
bucketsful of pap, excreta.

Almost giving up, I find
a handful though that blow my mind,
imagery, so powerful
worth plaudits by the barrowful.

Others too that made me laugh;
one about a dwarf giraffe
falling for a stripey cow,
that’s my favourite, anyhow.

8 Comments on “Anyhow

  1. my favourite poems are still the light ones, from A A Milne to Billy Collins, poet laureate but fun; learnt an interesting fact today: that giraffes are the only mammals WITHOUT vocal cords —

    Liked by 1 person

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