The Old Oak Tree (collaborative poetry with my husband Michael) first line is his and second is mine and so on ...

Treetops in autumn against a stone, blue wall

Fairies singing lullabies in your ear

Christ in my handbag nattering incessantly

Purple blue red swirling high

This is not the dawning of the Age of Aquarius

Reasons that make you wonder

Aspirin coloured scum floating in a martini, tryptophan-enhanced turkeys grunting up from my dinner gravy

Angels wandering the hillside

Clean pondscum enhances my illuminated bible, chug a lug chug a lug

Vomit spilled on the clean carpet

Get the Hoover

Demons running in the yard

Trying to collect the errant silverware

Grey clouds moving in

Absorbing unfettered visions

Looking for an unhappy soul

Jesus annoying me nattering from my handbag while the orange cat twas ever thus

Romans with a spaceship

And a Popiel Pocket Fisherman

Mayans with swords trying to kill the populous

Scrotum-scratching snickerwarts interrupting and trying to compete with an ever more obnoxious messiah ... from my handbag

Falling many notes that don’t concern me

As they spill into my glass of milk the chupacabra drools goat blood making pretty swirling sensations reminding me of a cherry shake without olives

Sacrificial thoughts remind me of where not to go ...

 ... like Cambodia, with its swaying palm trees, sashaying in the autumn treetops against a stone, blue wall