Poems
by Mary
Cresswell
Advance Planning
Remember that night?
It was just you and I
the very same night that
the dog ate the sky
which meant we were down
to 999
and the very first glitch
had hit our design
We went for the border
down the home straight
The dog ate another
so it’s 998.
Can you guess the rest?
It’s not a hard slog:
get rid of the puzzle
or get rid of the dog
Walking With The Gods
I floated higher than a cloud
that wanders o’er Elysian hills
My head was bloody but unbowed
as I searched for asphodels
to strengthen me upon my way
in case this was my dying day
but they were nowhere to be found
nor paperwhites nor daffodils –
so I left Apollo’s ground
to follow more prosaic smells.
My feet continued fast and loose
across the veggie patch of Zeus
competing with Diana’s tracks
but it was not my day or time.
I fell into complete collapse,
out of tempo, out of rhyme,
trapped forever on the sod
all munched up by arthropods.
Amuse Bouche
These days my cooking has no peer
the world waits with bated breath
celebrity chefs each take a chair
and wait to see what’s coming next
Is it duck à l’orange today?
or maybe fresh-baked sourdough
or scallops fresh from Golden Bay
with wine from deepest Marlborough?
But no! I’ll keep us all perplexed
Not Gordon Ramsay or Simon Gault
can figure out what’s coming next.
My own cuisine! The merest thought
would bring Escoffier to his knees…
while I serve yet more toasted cheese
