Dean Bottomley Poems

I saw a Primrose today, I doubt it saw me
As it peeped, coyly from amongst the long grass.
How can such hope and promise be held
In such a small shy flower?
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If you would have the route to grand success
So you will know that always you will win.
Take butter, fifty grams, no more no less,
Then slices five of bread and put that in
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I listened to him for over an hour:
Chest out, head up, singing his soul’s feelings.
To who? Nobody listened, Nobody responded
But I did.
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How well I remember as I’m slumped in my chair:
Be’reft of movement, bereft of hair.
My bodily odors might foul the air
I’m sorry, you see I’m not offered care.
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Scurrying, hurrying, shiny and black
A tiny head and a longer back.
Scuttling along the garden wall
Right on the edge but you don’t fall.
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Why Why Why does no-one hear my screams
As I am cut by what you do and say?
But you don't know the pain and fear you cause
I want to speak, but how do I find the way?
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The cozy feel of Christmas still lingers in the air
Though tree and present wrappings are long gone to the tip.
Some gifts were very welcome, but other cast aside.
A Simpson mug thats awful, a tie you can’t abide.
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Be still my child and rest
The world is in safe hands.
The sun has gone to warm
Children across the sea;
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Brooding, smoldering, deep lying in secret: .
Always there, waiting, watching for the moment.
Strong, powerful, and just below the surface
Coiled, tensioned, poised. Ready to attack!
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Wan tired sun on dozing fields;
Leaves spiraling down to fall asleep;
The calm that follows summers flush:
The earth has given birth.
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