ponderous poetry for the hoi polloi

Polly Chromatic


Where be my rainbow wonder?

(Do I even dare to find her?)

Tie-dye bride, Diana,

Holographic splendour,

Waving at me from behind the

Seckel pear tree…



She’s a technicolour knockout!

(And I’ve the bruises to prove it),

The girl with the smile oh so prismatic,

Multicoloured kisses,

You can almost taste the tulips in




She’s that slick of oil

In an otherwise spiritless puddle,

Post-war downpour,

(What is it good for?)

Absolutely everything!

Of this I’m sure…


Pow! Bang! Pop!

She’ll make your heart stop!

Gee wiz, gee golly,

That girl’s a zap lolly,

So stick up your brolly,

And shut your trolly,

And just enjoy the rain in


Mr. Lunches

Please, spare a thought for

Old Mr. Lunches,

Who could never be arsed with

Bottomless brunches.

Cinnamon Roll


And for my brekkie,

You can be my cinnamon roll,

Pocket revolver and

Saccharine soldier,

Doing battle with my wisdom teeth,

Too foolish to avoid,

The freckle-faced ammonoid,

Which washed up on my

Schauss pink shores.

Ell’s Bells

Boy, those male escorts never chip in for rent.


You’re the toffee apple of my eye,

Crystal iris,


Manning the wheel in that woeful sky,

How blessed I am to be by your side.


You’re my milkweed butterfly,

Stained glass window,

Glacial spy,

With looking glass wings fresh from Versailles,

How blessed I am to be by your side.


Yes, you’re my polysaccharide,


Half bottle of rye,

But enough to make me pumpkin pie-eyed,

How blessed I am to be by your side.


You’re even my silver iodide,

For every cloud

Has a silver line, in

Case you didn’t hear me first time,

How blessed I am to be by your side.


You’re the saint that drives my tides,

Roman goddess,

The sunshine’s bride,

Games divine without design

And how blessed I am to be,


By your


Ten Pin Rolling

Rolling, rolling, rolling…

Such is my brain with every kiss,

It sits,

Like a pear drop in your mouth,

Revolving, dissolving,

Turning your tongue to litmus paper,

Oh pray I pass the acid test!


Rolling, rolling, rolling…

Such is my heart with every word,

No matter how absurd,

You’re the circus artiste and acrobat

Who trained a cobra to tango,

So telepathic, allopathic,

All-inclusive pleasure!


Rolling, rolling, rolling…

Such are my eyes with every look,

That ocular grappling hook,

And how thankful I am for the


Dear pinball wizardess,

Take my whites for a spin!



Rolling, rolling, rolling…

Such is my spine with every touch,

Don’t stray too much,

Just tell me what’s on the agenda?

Costal jenga?

Coastal splendour,

Spend a little time with me,


And we can keep rolling, rolling, rolling…


Lotus biscuit spread is not to be scoffed at.


Billy Bread Basket,

Basket case, fruitcake,

For him life was a loaf too far,

With a disposition as weak as red top milk,

And a haircut most bizarre!


Billy Bread Basket,

Basket case, fruitcake,

As mad as a custard tart,

With the visual perception of a star-nosed mole,

As pleasant as a periungual wart!


Billy Bread Basket,

Basket case, fruitcake,

Forever crying through his sausage roll,

And boy did he need his bran checking,

If not his heart and soul!


Billy Bread Basket,

Basket case, fruitcake,

The neediest baker around,

With nowt but a recalcitrant bottom lip for company,

And a mouth like a burial ground!


But now Billy Bread Basket,

Basket case, casket base,

Based beneath a fruit-less-cake seal,

More loaves than loved ones, more sugar than sense,

Oh may he rest in piecemeal!



With every closed-eye hallucination I endure,

My love for you, and your love for me

Becomes ever more


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