in tree tops they perched
like feathered decorations...

a good rummage through
worn trouser pockets put him...

juggling with chickens
got no laughs so he sprayed 'em...

drinking in old Damascus caused
riots when decades of 'dry' were lifted...

Debbie is cleansed so
does not need reminding of...

the avocets are coming
i feel them on the wind...

writing a rondeau
was like applying cool salve...

a slow slag-heap-sun
slips into a...

their worries wound up
the - clock ticking torment - of...

Daniel danced like Fred Astaire, sweeping
Ella, his breathless bride, up into his arms...

locking myself in
for the second time felt like...

Reaching through reflective pools
To save a soul from sin...