THE JOKER WHO LIVES IN THE ATTIC

kingfisher

Upstream, where riparian ledge
weds the chattering cascade from
100 paces she spots a hectic kingfisher
my daydreaming eyes would never see
 
Later outside the Tea Rooms
a not so nervous, brave even
gregarious little blighter enacts
the eternal photographers trick
moves in ever closer, closer still
‘Good morning Sparrow Fart…suppose you’re after my orts?’
Sparrow Fart hangs around while
she affably explains that sunflower hearts
are far more nutritious than Victoria sponge crumbs
moreover that they are presently in season
the little fellow listens intently to what she has to say
takes a swift dust bath and is off about his business
A small child unwittingly drops her comfort blanket
an ‘allsorts’ tail-wagging thief heads for the horizon
no need for tears for she is on the case, a click of the fingers
and all is well, dog ticked off, harmony restored
 
I could watch her all day long
when she talks with animals and plants
and yes, it is a given she can read this mind
 
“Well then tell me”
 
“Tell you what?”
 
“What’s going on upstairs?”
 
She pauses a little while to cogitate
 
“Well what isn’t X-rated is quite compassionate and I rather think you’re about to let the joker out of the attic…I like him…you’ll do!”
 
“That’s handy”
 

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15 thoughts on “THE JOKER WHO LIVES IN THE ATTIC

    1. Young Marissa you’ve always been as pure as the driven snow…I shall horsewhip any person who says otherwise. By the way any chap claiming never to think W rated is a liar…true that is

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