Sharing another piece from blogger friend Mike Steeden, who is probably at this moment in a coffee shop (I’m imagining) on the coast of England. Or maybe in France. And I’m jealous. 🙂


Underneath the bridge of heartache the saintly take shelter

In the dark tunnel of delusions white-face clowns aim to provoke

There’s a Best Ragweed Hotel made up of just cardboard

Where a ‘mutton dressed as lamb’ Madam comforts the broke

On the merry-go-round favoured by ‘bruise easily’ lovers

The pipe organ plays cacophonous rhapsodies

Steam powered wooden ponies all bobbing for cover

A found out priest weeps, head bowed, down on his knees

The slick politicians go visit the frozen lake there

They skate over thin ice and frosty white lies

They dress up for the occasion blindfolded

Untruths easier to sell in hopeless disguise

The enchantress evokes her charms naked

She says, “It keeps all my magic aglow”

Her incantations as ever spellbinding

When there’s a poisonous hex to bestow

A gaunt phoenix stays put in the ashes

Too sick and tired to rise up again

Samson shaves his…

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