Brian Taylor Poems
The ugly sister, Alice,
glared at the mirror with reflected malice;
gave a grin
and blew a bubble;
stroked the stubble
on her chin
and simpered, in unbridled bliss,
'What a charmer I iss! '
adding, with a grimace,
'Who's the prettier, glass face? '
Cinderella. Cinderella. Cinderella.
The mirror twinkled a little wintry.
The tiny fragments of splintery
glass were swept up by footman Fred.
'What a wolatile woman! ' Fred said.
'A weally, wolatile woman! ...
Christ Church meadow
is awash with driving rain
and a wind which bites the skin
and chills the blood within.
Its paths are sticky, yellow mud.
And the Cherwell, brown and dull,
slips ever higher.
Ducks, moorhens, squirrels