The night maid Wanders in the garden Searching for fallen flowers The night maid Passes my bedroom door Morning is near The night maid Is still sleeping I can hear her dreams

the wet sand is clinging to my skin it is cold and very uncomfortable she went swimming in her underwear but has since drowned in the sea this assumption is false as i am very much alive my show will be held in early may where i hope to sell some of my work

this is not a poem but a slice of cheese

Edith walked in Bath With her Blue Rocks Bright Morning Light

Edith walked in Bath With her Blue Rocks Sweet Morning Light

Edith walked in Bath With her Blue Rocks Quiet Morning Light

Miss Spread was our History Teacher And had been engaged to Mr Pure-Love Our much admired Games Master He is now engaged to Ruby Rose-Stone Who won an Olympic Gold in Rome

They found the body Of Marjorie Irene Spread In a field of Golden Buttercups She had taken her own life After being unhappy in love

In the village where we stayed There was a particular tradition Which was both ridiculous and amusing In short the older more mature trees Were given bright summer faces By children visiting from abroad

We were both curious About your intimate tattoos And your dexterity with a brush We were both curious About your paint splashed clothes And how good you always look We were both curious About your physical beauty And your understanding of others