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Mrs. Milais is Cleaning the Village Hall by Cavecanum, literature
Literature
Mrs. Milais is Cleaning the Village Hall
Thank you for these flowers.
They do appear so beautiful,
and thank you for these floorboards
which present me here before you.
The wind that whistles around the corners
of this village hall tonight,
has made us close the windows,
against the typical rain in the air.
I am overcome and must put these flowers in water.
I'll be back quite soon.
No one must be concerned about anything -
for a while if you've a mind, time will cease,
white to the tune of the wind
chasing around the corners of this village hall tonight.
There, the flowers are in water;
Crimson reflected in Joan's fired bowl
of the Principal trees all around here.
Let us place th
Keeping warm by Cavecanum, literature
Literature
Keeping warm
There you are.
I see you are again
walking beside the right bank
of our river,
the only one we both know,
perhaps you are looking for me
And you follow the firm path formed
so colourfully beneath star and moon,
down from the crashing heights to the crescent sea
where scale and fur, the host of all journeys
shade and play with your brief incandescent footprint
I wait for you on this fossil coast
where giants shook the earth,
gods ripped and charged the air
heedless of our future advent
and of their own brief time there
Since when, some ancient jolly mariner saint
-like us thankful for the shelter-
danced on deck another conquest,
before som
Final Dash by Cavecanum, literature
Literature
Final Dash
There was a young man of Porthcawl
who asked of himself -Is this all ?
In his thoughts he obsessed
on those guillotined French
so he cut off his head with a chainsaw!
Will it hurt when I bounce, he wondered
thinking of gravity down to the quay ?
As between kerb and cobble could start quite a wobble
and you never know who you might see !
There's always one way to find out he decided
to pull the magneto chord,
and worked up some revs for the sharp blade
to present himself to his Lord.
Who would he meet on the way, he wondered ?
deciding on all those who would see him;
and perhaps some of those, he juxtaposed,
between home and his hols in Por
