sea froth solid
as cherry blossom
on day one
catching sinister pastels
each in its own
sweet bubble
oiling our beauty
by any means
fair or foul
poem & pic cc by 2.0 Rachel McAlpine
sea froth solid
as cherry blossom
on day one
catching sinister pastels
each in its own
sweet bubble
oiling our beauty
by any means
fair or foul
poem & pic cc by 2.0 Rachel McAlpine
I love my hair
because it’s there
not much
as such
but I’m not bare
up there
like you
and I won’t share.
It isn’t fair
and I don’t care
it’s mine
so there!
Photo and poem by rachel mcalpine cc-by-4.0
I saw this remarkable clothes-line last week, and today, out popped a spiteful, Dr Seussy sort of poem.
Rock star family
daddy rose, mummy rose and little baby rose
flaunting celebrity blood
and posing
Poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine CC BY-NC 2.0
Do you know that irrational urge
to climb a tree?
To settle in the purple wake
of day?
poem and photo by Rachel McAlpine
Coins are heavy
notes are light.
Clouds walk on stilts
for your delight.
Photo and poem by Rachel McAlpine
Farewell the safety-pins
of yesteryear.
Farewell the rebel cry of
‘Look ma, no bra!’
Since the revolt of
‘Ha ha, see my bra!’
a strap seen
is not obscene.
*
Rachel McAlpine
Curl? Give it a whirl.
Shave? Be brave.
Wax? Rather eat tacks.
*
Rachel McAlpine