Snow White’s Robin

Day 21 of napowrimo



I saw her coming closer

She didn’t see me hide

I watched her knock on the door

I flew onto the roof.

No one answered, she stepped inside

I flew to the window sill.

She looked around the little house

I kept very still

She counted all the chairs

I was brave and hopped inside

She counted all the cups and plates

i watched her as she moved

she climbed the stairs and counted beds

i flew to the edge of the room

She lay down on the little bed

I hopped onto the post

She closed her eyes and dozed right off

I closed my eyes as well.

Suddenly I heard loud shouts

My feathers shook

‘Who is this girl’ a little man said

I wanted just to hide

She opened her eyes and said ‘hello’

The little men stood back

‘Hello little robin were you looking after me?’

She asked as she stroked my head

I nodded slowly and looked around

The seven men were not pleased

‘I’m Snow White, can i stay a while?’

She asked the one with the ears

They nodded slowly, no one spoke

She got right out of bed.

And with that they followed her down the stairs

And i flew overhead

She made them dinner

We all sat down

And that’s how the story started

As for the bad bits

We will skip them now

I rather like the way it is

Happiness and lots of smiles

Snow white, seven dwarves and

Me the little red robin

Who watched the story unfold.


Riding again

So today’s Napowrimo’s  challenge was to write a poem that involves an urgent journey and an important message.

morning light

It was on this day, in nineteen fifteen

A man with a hood, saddled his horse,

He rode through the land, as the moon was high

Shadows and darkness were all around.


The horse took up speed, down muddy tracks

Galloping through dense forests and streams

The man with the hood, pushed on through the night

He was desperate to beat the first light.


Before the dawn broke, was the end of the ride,

The message delivered intact.

As he looked in the distance,

Darkness was changing, the light appearing too fast


Pushing his horse to gather speed

The destination was now in sight

And on the horizon, the dawn was breaking

The house appeared at last.


Dismounting his steed, removing his hood,

His face was all twisted and drawn,

A white form appeared, ‘your too late, I got here first’

The message was loud and clear.


The man with the hood, with a howl of dismay

Snarled,  his delivery was too late again,

Beaten by the angel, all covered in white

Death would need to go riding again.

The House Opposite

The House Opposite

The House Opposite – Rye


I am opposite ‘The House Opposite’

Opposite to what? I thought.

Its dark oak panelled doors

Each one exquisitely carved

The old dark handle

And the bright new lock

Set in dark oak frames

Beaten, knocked, gouged.

What stories could you tell me?

With your lamp above the door

Who used to enter you?

And what is it your opposite to?

Are you different from across the cobbled road?

Is it modern where you are old?

So I cross the cobbles

And look to see what the house could see

And Opposite was another house

Almost identical

With the name

‘The House Opposite to Me’.

Suspended in water

Suspended in water

tiny fluttering of fins

you work so hard to remain



You dart, twist and turn

scoot between rocks

Chase one anthers to



Floating in the bubbles

created by the pump

I see you bask, do they



I come to your tank

you come to greet me

are you looking at me

the way i’m looking at you


You are not free

held in a tank

I am not free

bound to a house


I am thankful for your serenity

you give me peace

you capture me, mesmerize me

I thank you