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I don't pretend to be a Keats
or a Shelley or a Shakespeare—rhymes
just pop into my head sometimes, and
I scribble them down on whatever
piece of paper comes to hand. 
It's fun and it's just for me, but now and
then, people ask to read what
I have written. 
 
 
 
 
 
PAINTED LADY

Airy fairy
Fickle as they come.
No thought in her head,
No substance, so dumb.

Blonde hair from a bottle
Lots of powder and paint.
But her lovers adore her
And have no cause for complaint!

 

 

© 2014 Mary Davies

Other Poems

Taxpayer's Lament
Why?FearCourage
Pride
BabiesMemories
Kiss
Uncertainty
Busy Bee
Colour
Painted Lady


 

 

   All words and pictures on these pages © 2014 Mary Davies, Tewkesbury, UK  

 

 

 

 

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