TWO OLD POEMS

I TRIED TO GET AN AUTOGRAPH

I tried to get an autograph, or two,
And yearned to get a signature for you.
I waited by the player's locker room,
Anticipating where the champs would zoom.
I'd bought a programme, and a Parker pen,
And found a mark to wait, when Glen McPhen,
The winner of the quarter final match,
Was speeding toward me on my chosen patch
Of thatch. Alas, the crowd surged forward, eh?
I felt my body squozed in such a way,
That I fell face first in the muddy spot,
That I'd avoided when the iron was hot.
I fell in such an awkward way, my pen,
My very precious Parker, there and then,
Was like a dart and pierced my vest and chest!
I heard the air go swooshing out. I blessed
You, all, for I was fading fast. My breath
Was non-existant, and I faced my death.
Oh, luckily, McPhen removed my pen,
And saved my life. Oh, Zen. Oh, Glen. Amen.

Izzy Sommers

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WILTING ROSE, MELTING ICE

The ice was melting in the bucket, and the
Rose was wilting in it's vase. I gazed. The
Glass was clear. There was a garden. It was
So near, so clear, it pulled me from my
Mortal self, to float amongst the blooms
And shrubs. I found myself alight, like
Cheshire's cat, atop a maple branch, asmiling
Broadly. Then, I spotted you. 'Twas really
You! You floated t'ward me, smiled at me.
You joined me on my maple branch and kissed
Me, on the lips. A rainbow coloured
Pyrotechnic show went on inside my brain!
Alas, it rained. We melted, then and there.
Our smiles had turned to frowns. My frown
Persisted in the restaurant, agazing at my
Melting ice and wilting rose. I rose and
Paid the bill. And, there you were! You
Were wet. Your car had broken down. You
Needed to clean up. We looked around and
Smiled. The Garden Inn, next door, would do.

Izzy Sommers