Sheena Blackhall Poems

1. We’ll Meet Where there’s no more sorrow

We’ll meet where there’s no more sorrow
My child, where all dreams start
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The pugilist is thick as a stick
Of fairground rock

Too many times he's been knocked
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Auld Wife Fae Carnoustie
There wis an auld wife fae Carnoustie
Her drawers war bumshayvelt an fooshtie
The dottled auld feel, bocht a pair made o steel
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The Taj Mahal's love tale is eternal
Built by a prince to mark lost bridal joys
White marble sculpted in a vast farewell
Fashioned with all the grandeur wealth employs
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He loves me, he loves me not

How vain to imagine I’d cherish a photo of him
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(based on soldiers' testimony)

Some of the huts were torched
Some of the younger soldiers were killing kids
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Mountains, snow-swept mountains of Arctic grandeur
Where no sweet bird finds rest in Winter’s thrall
Your streams should run with blood for a thousand aeons
You watched and did not hinder Clan Donald’s fall
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It takes 35 minutes to travel the Channel Tunnel
24 miles under murky fathoms of deep
Napoleon would have loved this foxy link
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I do not jeer at squirrels
Or peel frogs out of their jumpsuits

I do not throw stones at angels
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They led the strange one into the woods
To the tree that stands like a twisted snake
And the hawthorn bush it tore his skin
But never a sound did the strange one make
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