dash
 
baubles

Baubles

 
I see my face
fish-eyed in the baubles
purple, green, gold
I can be any colour I choose
 
My nose is the mountain
on which my spectacles rest
my ears distant kites
taken by the northern winds
 
 

Fairy Lights
 
Boa of twisted wire
I snake around the boughs
and branches bedecked
with coloured globes
and trinkets suspended
by golden thread
it is in my nature to scatter
fragmented light into the dark 
I am a glowing memory 
of nostalgic wonder
 


Itís the thought that counts
 
As a tree I wore many jumpers,
hanger for awkward designs
 
As a drink you saw me as 
gassy pale lager in a stubby bottle
 
As a Christmas pudding you felt
I needed brandy flames to enliven me
 
As a mask I wore a Christmas smile

Andy Eycott

 
If you have any thoughts on these poems, Andy Eycott would be pleased to hear them.


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