Ruth Walters Poems

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No Trespassing

Who's there?
walking among my memories
tripping over cells of humour
falling on old war wounds.

Re-Cycled Teenager

Recycled teenager

The teenager was looking jaded,
all those late nights,

Turkey Sandwich

Miss Jeffries was cold,
like a dry, stale turkey sandwich.
She was always in a foul mood,
curling up at the edges.

Perfect Day

The perfect day sits in old photographs
on mantlepieces and console tables
but it was never really perfect.
Moments of it may have been,

No Cabbage

I don't like cabbages,
despise lumpy mattresses
and men that wield control with glee,
or cats that purloin my favourite seat,

Look Me In The Eyes

He told me things would get better,
swore he'd make life okay,
pledged to toss out his errant ways
and stay home from the pub for a change,

My Dutch Clock

I bought a tiny, dainty clock,
(tick tock, tick tock goes my little clock)
but it doesn't tell the time a lot
though it gives my hall a tiny heart

The Flowerpot Man

He lived next door, so quietly,
with sour face and manners,
always pottering about
at dark, unearthly hours.

Watching Clouds Fly

I watch my grand-daughter
as she looks up at the sky.
'Tiny aer-o-p'anes' she squeals.

Green Socks

The green socks always
looked cute,
were always together,
neat and paired.

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