The child in the the gallery cafe Was underwhelmed by her 'Children's Lunchbox'
She sneered peeling wafer thin Ham out from between bleach White bread
Stares despairingly at the Cardboard, itself adorned with Animal iconography for her Enjoyment
She feels patronised and no Longer hungry Pushing both the apple and juice Box tumbling to the floor She makes for the door Her mother still unaware I have a duty to alert her But I just watch She bursts out onto the Street as I reach for her Juicebox
There is an elusive group of creatures Seldom spoken of by sensitive souls Lining railway tracks as far as they stretch Hiding in hedges, dashing down holes
All it takes is patience An ounce of imagination From Taunton up to Stoke-on-Trent One can be spotted between every station
The Hedgetracker is spotted Silver eyes glow in the green Though most keep sightings to themselves As to be believed they must be seen
Hedgetrackers should not be feared They're neither vicious nor malign They just want to keep their peaceful lives Of watching trains fly down the line
We argued over that Marc Bolan record That I knew wasn’t mine anyway We argued over that Marc Bolan record It’s my demented way of passing the day
I love to see the lines on your forehead appear They run so incredibly deep I love to see the lines on your forehead, my dear When you’ve got the bit between your teeth
So when I hear ride a white swan I can’t help but think of your face Fighting your corner for T.Rex That cosmic dancer in outer space