Dean Meredith Poems

When I was young
My Dad drank a lot
He still does
Though less than he used to
...

Poetry
Is
...

It’s a weak dry cough
And a head full of cement
It’s a little bit of phlegm
Every now and then
...

willy wag tail
twists in time
with sprinkler
...

She is from and of water
Her thoughts are a stream
When she is filled
She reaches out and touches
...

bees
earnestly humming away
bees
...

Hush …
It’s only me
Your little tap
You touch me
...

So you write a few poems
And think you’re a poet
Then a voice says
Don’t be too hard on yourself
...

She was a cute little thing
And seemed to come
All by herself
Except for her mobile
...

Sometimes
The gelding resents
The stallion
For he remembers
...