Cycrone

Screamed hot pain

Boiler seas

Higher nose

Inbleem

The cycrone

Has spoken

Lies

Rip, rip the water apart

Wind screams of a ancient past

Knives of hail, knives in your hearts

Cycrone came for our heart

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Buggy sapience

Trolley lives in a allotment empty of grace

She waits for the summer nights for her race

Trips to the arthropods doorstep

Eats lunch with the queen, oh yes

Buggy sapience

Trolley gives a simple box of nuts

Payment for protection from buggy mace

Sips tea and nods agreeing sets

Going back home to bed, so wet

Buggy sapience

Trolley takes her axe to another growth of jinx weed

Sees the nuts from it gather on grounds she is pleased

Kid, it’s not a dream, you bet

Requiem for a restaurant 

piles of grey half washed pots and pans

concrete walls and sterile tile floors
Little blue things in a shelf

Shel of the former place
You would sit on the coner table

Order the usual and sit in comfy conformity 
It’s your usual time 

Your usual place and age
They walk past as your drink arrives 

And stares into see you 
Smiles, hugs, kisses? Not today.

Hide that disappointment 

Earnings are new, red pinpoints
Always orders something they have to tried yet

You know that’s how it always went
More smiles, laughter and food

Smells so great

Order wines to match the drapes?
Your have not always been sad

Empty as you are now 
This place was like a home

A member of the family and it said things so quietly
You only just noticed when they put up the prices

It didn’t seem so full of or on the go
You came anyway to meet your bo

Smiles always now, kisses you adore 
Until today’s grimy discovery 

Piles of half washed pots and pans 
Your handprint leaves a mark on the window

You message a new place to linger 
Little things that you remember is all that’s left

Until that day you forget