Saturday Sonnet #3

She thought that all I did was to keep house That she could waltz right in and take my man from me and I’d stay silent as a mouse. That I’d fight back was never in her plan. And yet how could I not when all I knew was heading West with Laura and her hair of yellow and...

Saturday Sonnet #2

I don’t wish death on any living thing, But find it hard to know that Bowie’s gone. That Prince no more will dance and play and sing, While Bashir Al Assad goes rolling on. Yet I’ll still play “Let’s Dance,” and “Kiss” Out LOUD Not read Mein Kampf from first page to...

Saturday Sonnet #1

“There’s something wrong with Sandra,” said her mum As Sandy Sat and hugged a Prada Bag “She’s quiet nowadays; morose and glum And has a tendency to lose her rag. Since Yves, that French boy, left, she’s been this way Cos...