Poem of the Month

Post Mortem by Dave Walklett

He eases the front door closed on the last departing guest



listens to the silence.

Returns to the melancholy

to which he’s become accustomed.

Forty-three years together

a mere moment:

a lifetime since she’s gone.

When we retire

we’ll move to a smaller house and

we’ll buy a campervan

take a cruise

we’ll lose our eyesight and our health

we’ll watch each other die.

He eases the front door closed on the final mourning guest

and wonders what he will do


Dennis Kelly by Dave Walklett

Dennis Kelly loved his telly;

Watched it all the time.

Dad said: ‘Son

Your eyes’ll go square,

Your brain’ll turn to slime.’

But Dennis Kelly kept watching telly:

He laughed off what his dad said.

‘Til one day in the mirror it shocked him to see

There was STUFF coming out of his head.

It oozed from his nose, from his mouth and his ears;

Out from his eye sockets too.

And ten minutes later all that was left

Was a Dennis-sized pile of GOO.

Dad shouted loudly ‘I told you so!’

But his Mum just cried and cried.

They scooped the GOO into a colourful pot

And set it beside their bedside

And now to the moral of this sorry tale:

Be careful what you do.

Don’t watch too much telly

Like poor Dennis Kelly:

You might end up as GOO too.