Your lissome regrets

Harbour no sails

As I groom you to know

I am not equal to your love

I sustain

You envelope

Me in your lusting

For More.

I wonder at my name

Prince William of Brit

For never shall I know

How you found me

Alone as a knave

Now my wish has been

Granted. I have found

A Tommy but you are

The swell I have been

Swimming for.

Lift me up so I surf

The Kalahari again

Resist not

Dear Kate

You are the timely

Saint of my

Longing. B


COPYRIGHT Bruce E Saunders 2020


Ain’t no molecule it’s a slipsheet of fodder for the news

Bu it’s real approach to nature

Is to turn back time to the synopsis of life

On this planet as it takes the wood

From the tree and turns it into

The wood from the acid-base called love or money

So much money in its patents and devel’

It could have funded more than just a turnkey

In the lock of African Education

It could have funded a war on the drug alcohol

Or the war on the drug of life

Called War itself but no

It is treated like the new devel-up-munt

Of the New Millennia

Like Hell – it’s made like soap

From bones and skin of elephants that never forget

The US Enterprise called the rebellion.

Against thieves of the night

Who steal their tusks – China.

Copyright B E Saunders 2016