Contraband First Poem by Margaret Alice

Friday 3 October 2008

We packed our bags, the contraband
went in first, the shells of course, the
stones, highly irregular, strictly against
the orders of the Lord and Master of
the Crocodile Castle

The bags all lined with my precious
shells, then my clothes, Nici did the
same, the Lord decreed there would
be no space, we agreed, quietly
packing our treasures away

Before we left, I found a bag used for
books and shoes, enough space for
special stones, in they went, packed
at my feet, covered by extra clothes
thrown over them

The lack of space problem was solved
without the Lord’s complaining about
loss of discipline; breaking his rules,
ignoring prescriptions, improvising
as we go, smuggling

Unacknowledged until safely home!