Oh my how
red cock struts

(thinks he's a sultan)

striding in and out among
his harem scarum hens

talking to themselves
like some
lost senile sentimental souls

foolish fowl

they lay eggs for gentlemen
and kids on long hot summer
holidays

they hide their eggs like
broken hearts

like old love
letter secrets

safe in unseen
places.

But see Auntie Nellie
willy nilly as a fox

stalk the chickens
and expose them

cruell as the NEWS OF THE WORLD.

See her raid the haystacks
(back seat of the old car)
rain rusting machinery

her apron pregnant
and precious with

the warm and brown
gift of eggs.

Red Cock crows
loud against the morning marigolds

while children's voices
babble sleepily
into wide awakefulness

love letter secrets
staining their lips

sad valentines
for breakfast.

*******

SEAMS? NAY, ‘TIS NOT SEAMS MADAM...IT IS! (for Auntie Nellie)

My hand trembling
trying to keep a straight face

drawing a seam
down the back of each of my Auntie’s legs

“Keep it straight…keep it straight! ”
she’d shriek

(giggle as it tickled)

I became quite an expert
at it.

Looking over her shoulder
coquettishly

her heavily mascaraed eyes
eying my handiwork
in the mottled mirror.

Her mouth
a perfect pout

a thread of crimson
squealing:

“Good man…good man
my lovely little man! ”

“Perfect job! ”

And then off we go
to Church