Last night
Whilst awaiting sleep
Thinking of dreams
I would'st not keep
The moon shone brightly
In the ink black sky
As moths, then fairies
Fluttered on by
My sensual sensitivities
That had remained unspoken
By the moonlight, and magic
Were gently awoken
I then sensed the presence
Of the fruit moon princess
She kissed me gently
As she began to undress
Her enchanting smile
And all knowing eyes
Reached into my soul
As she gently caressed my thighs
Writhing with pleasure
We were moving as one
Like beautiful echoes
Of a true love song
As our flickering tongues
Found new depths of delight
We were thus beautifully entwined
For the rest of the night
The fruit moon soon waned
At the dawn of the day
As i drifted off to dreamland
As my beautiful princess, faded away

by Jemia

The imagery
Created by the shadows
That ripple upon moonlit pools
Soft as a falling petal
Caught on a warming Summers breeze
Flapping
Like the wings of a butterfly
A lone frog
Croaks
Whilst poised
Upon a lily pad
The moonlit night sky
Becomes cloudy, and overcast
As the Earth below
Darkens
A hoot from an owl
Seems to awaken
Ethereal beings
As the hidden world
Slow comes to life

by Jemia

Clair De Lune
Light of the Moon
Under which lies,a place of magical enchantment
As the land of Fae, dance, and play

Wolves howl, as creatures of the night prowl
Treading softly, as a strange tranquility
And alluring essence
Captures this curious beauty

The mind drifts off, as oft it drifts
To a far flung world
As the gentle effervescent glow of the moon
Leaves a strange secret sparkle, hidden within the eyes

Thoughts transcend, never end
That ripple, through curious imaginings
As a different world unfurls
where girls will be boys, and boys will be girls

As moths madly pirouette, in this deepening glow
Lost in a frantic madness
As the immitation of the moonlight
Of lanterns, offer a ghostly attraction

Sweet sister moon, you agitate the mind
And move everything on your twin
Yet offer, and proffer, a strange tranquility
Ive loved you since my birth
by Jemia

My emotions
Are sometimes mirrored
By the weather
A deep dull grey mist
Has taken away my view
Other than the occasional glimmer
Of grey, and white flecks
As a choir of screaming seagulls
Come flying through the mist
As though entering this world
Through an obscure portal
Chased by invisible shadows
Borne from an unknown twilight world
The seagulls then
Re-enter the mist
swallowed whole
By the grey dankness
That hangs
Like a shroud
The silence returns
As i am alone with
A  white noise
And a numbing echo
Lost in an obscure limbo
I light a candle
Staring at the weaving flame
Possessed  by its hypnotic incandescence
Then ***** it out
As it reminds me
Of my wistful heart
And that i am alone
I venture out
Into the grey mist
And lose myself
In its mystery

by Jemia

it's kind of ironic, having given myself a French sounding surname, that i actually know very little French. in actual fact, for over 30 years, when asked if i knew any French, i would reply "petite pois!" in an 'allo 'allo kind of accent, until a French sister-in-law, after 20 years of knowing me, finally quizzed me on the matter, as she had always assumed, that i was merely jesting, as i love to play with words, as i was a hopeless juggler! and she said "you do know it's un petit peu?" , i said " i thought that un petit peu, was a noise a small cat would make?" how we laughed...he haw he haw...i knew i shouldn't of got up early today...😏🦋💕

A
One of my tutors at uni
Once said of my handwriting
"It appears
As if
A drunken spider
Has crawled across
The pages!"
I said
"Twas not the spider
That was drunk!"
How we laughed!
B
I was thinking
Only yesterday
That i can
Make analogies
'Til the cows come home
C
Someone bid
On an ebay
Thing of mine
Then cancelled
A false profit!

all unfortunately by
Jemia

I'm outraged
And (e)inraged
And somewhere
In between raged
Maybe
I'm just outrageous....
by Jemia

I have this cunning plan
To one day move, at will
To the Event Horizon
Where time stands still
And thus theoretically
I will not age
Nor ever
Become a sage
Nor ever come back
Especially should i fall
Into a hole that is black
So i'll keep my feet
Rooted, on the ground
And remain on this planet
Which is ever so round
As i have to settle for the fact
That i once made time fly
As i set a Christmas tree clock
Towards a ceilinged sky
But then something
Quite profound
As i then stopped time
When it smashed to the ground
So i don't really need
Any Black Holes in outer space
As i become like a clock
With a wry looking face
Next time
I hope to not go so far
Stopping time
Or become like Sagitarius
What A-Star!

by Jemia

Been training some Leporidae
To run
Fast
Pretty Hare racing stuff!
by Jemia

I have nothing left to do
Other than lights to switch off
And lights to switch on too
At night, and during the day
Until a time, which will eventually come
When i will have nothing left, to see, or say

by Jemia

A Magic Seed?

I wandered around a garden
It was early Spring
Not quite warm enough
For butterflies, or bee stings
And on the ground
I saw a large, curious looking seed
There was an inscription on its side
That i didn't know how to read
So i googled the words
And had them translated
"Eat me for a surprise?"
I tried to cut open this seed
That lay before my eyes
I was curious about its contents
A mystery seemed to lurk
I tried smashing it with a hammer
Soaking it in water
Sandpaper, but nothing seemed to work
So i swallowed it
I awoke a few years later
As an alien space ship
Returned me back to Earth
They had tattooed, as if in needs
On my forehead
"Beware, this human is stupid!"
"Don't give them seeds!"

by Jemia

My tears fall
Like mercurial drops
  Silver globules
Explode at contact
With the soddened earth

Ripples of sadness
Flow outwards
  Each, and every heartbreak
Rests upon the crests
As memories drown

Within each solitary teardrop
Within each painful memory
  That hollows out the soul
As your heart
Sinks into the abyss

As you find yourself
Lost, as in the echoes
  Of the final glimmers
And glows
Of a dying star

And soon
Your light
  Will shine
No
More

Just an empty
.
.
  .
.
.
S.P.A.C.E
by Jemia

Someones murdering nature again
Cutting down habitats
And sources
For insects, butterflies, and bees
Just so they can
Make everything
Look neat, and tidy, and controlled
To make it look nice, and pretty
Whilst destroying
The natural beauty
Muting the birdsong
As feathered friends
Go into mourning
The only sound
Is of man, and machine
Now the beautiful wildflowers
Lay decapitated
Hung, drawn, and quartered
The only nature left
Will be the pretty little flowers
Marching like soldiers
In rows of disdain
Clustered together
And coerced
Into organised ranks
The noise has stopped
The one sided battle is over
The dead
Swept away
The kerbside
A balding green
Any survivors
Now destitute
And trodden underfoot
I grieve

by Jemia

Nexr!
Surprised
I approach the counter
Ahead of the others
That were in front of me
In the queue
One of the queue
Uttered
"You're not next!"
And i replied
"Yes i am!"
"Ive always been next"
The lady behind the post office counter
Had watched my progress
Through the queue
But remained silent
And decided to deal with me anyway
I got my ID ready
And my passport application form
The assistant groaned audibly
As a few further moans came from the queue
I was still puzzled, and confused
And wondering
As to why i'd been summoned forward
Ahead of the half dozen in front
And as to how the counter lady had known me
Yet the first thing she asked me was
"What's your surname?"
i said i didn't have one
"Here's my birth certificate"
She said "this is most unusual?"
"Yes!" i said, "i  know"
This is some of the reason i needed a passport
She didn't proceed with her questions
She checked the documents
I'd provided
And informed me
That the passport office
Sometimes interview applicants
For further verification
"Everything seems in order!"
I thanked her
And wondered why
My parents
Had named me
NEXT!

by Jemia

I saw two friends briefly embrace last night
Something ive yearned, over this last year
But i couldn't summon up the courage
To hold someone so near

For i fear, that r would not want to ever let go
In case it was the last hug ever
But the opportunity, may not happen again
Never, never, never

A living, breathing, solid soul
A human touch of endearment
I try to catch my pulsing breath
Missing contact, is like a bereavement

I now mourn my missed opportunity
Nothing prepared me, there was no warning
I lie here in my silent solitude
It's now gone three in the morning

Soon the birds, will quietly awaken
Then sing their sweet songs of the dawn
And i will reminisce in my silence
At tears i could not fawn

by Jemia

Absinthe kisses dwell
Sweet lips bliss
Tingle with desire!

first, let me make it clear
Before i commence my word forage
There were no bears in this
Nor any porridge!

After i dilated
For about the 500th time
Fairly routinely
Twas never sublime

I entered the bathroom
For my usual shower
To water my petals
Like a flower

When i stepped into the shower
Ouch! it was to hot
I added cold water
Then it was to cold
After further adjustments
It was just right
Well
I was a little bare!

by Jemia

I see a giraffe, wearing a tie
Also a hat, with a monocled eye
And clocks all around it, at various times
Mostly ten to five, for reasons sublime

It hang on a wall, by a small table
As i quaffed more cider, of which i was able
As music echoed around the bar
As i awaited my chariot, to take me afar

I noticed the walls, were a lush dark bluish green
A stage by the door, on which one day, i may be seen
And curiously quirky lights, hanging from the walls
As i awaited my carriage, with its klaxon calls

So i sit here still waiting, with my third half cider
And think of a spider, that wriggled inside her
As other curiosities of quirkiness, enter my head
As my imagination wanders, so easily fed

Yet food for thought, does not fill the belly
My head is not entertained, by watching the telly
Home spun yarns meanwhile, and fairy lore
Teases, and tantalises, like never before

by Jemia

'Children need love'
'Adults need money'
Give me a limbo world
Betwixt the two, with honey

Just a small portion of each
Enough to feed me with food
And enough to feed me with love
To simply quell, this limbo mood

I could end up with neither
Just a silent wallow
Not an attractive trait
For me to have to swallow

As i await
The deluge of empty space
Lost contact
With the human race

by Jemia

The Genzing Gardens Pip
One day
When a small seed
Has grown
Maybe twenty, to thirty years from now
A future Isaac Newton
Perhaps, somehow
Will wander
Within a small park
For a lark
And admire the array
Of flowering nature
And blossoming trees
On display, respondent in their beauty
Whilst pondering
On scientific thingies
Looking for
Just that one moment
Of true inspiration
The Spring
Becomes Summer
Summer turns to Autumn
And still
The ignition key of inspiration
Lies dormant
As a dead dandelion
Until one cool  icy blue-skied day
He sits beneath an apple tree
His thoughts meandering
At that moment
An apple falls
As destiny calls
And hits him squarely on the head
He is rushed to hospital
And upon arrival
And much recovered
Declares
"Eureka!" (no bathwater involved)
" Do not ponder beneath apple trees in Autumn!"
Sometimes wisdom
Needs physical intervention!

by Jemia

The Killing

We gathered together
In a circle of magic
Lost in the moment
As harpists wove
Their enchantment
Each chord
Echoed
Reverberated
Into the flowing tide
Of our arteries
Into, and through our hearts
As though we were the strings
Then out of the dewy mists
Came a roaring
As before my eyes
I watched with horror
As my dancing companions
Fall to the ground
Impaled on iron spears
Their blood
Began to flow outwards
Still pulsing
From the music
I fled
As they bled
I glanced round
Just the once
Seeing the carnage
And the grinning
Triumphant humans
Savages
Murderers of the innocent
Celebrating their cowardice
I wept
And bled
Then disappeared into the mist

by Jemia

They were my creation
My responsibility
Yet
I cast them aside
Left them alone
Discarded
Destitute
Unwanted
No more than names on paper
From my crying pen
As i moved on
With reckless abandonment
I put them in an orphanage
And
In time
Wondered
If they were adopted
But considered
That if i didn't truly want them
Who else would?
I felt guilty
Then mourned their loss
I decided to track them down
Eventually found
That they were still together
Their names
Kept in a floder
Titled
The orphanage
For my unwanted
Poems

by Jemia

The insanity
Of humanity
***** profanity
Just realised
What an epiphany is
And thought irony
Was linked with
Ironing
Or eating to much spinach
And that being anaemic
Mean't i couldn't be ironic
So after many iron supplements
My irony was not improved
I then sat with ire
And fell
Headfirst
Into a mirrored mire
Of mischievous miscreants

by Jemia

The big blue beautiful bird
Had grown fresh wings
Meanwhile
The old feathers
Were re-united
Knotted together
Waxing lyrical
Icarus (sunbather extraordinaire )
Fell from the sky
Into a liquorice factory
Icarus allsorts!

by Jemia

Imaginary
A flower that never fades
Always beautiful

by Jemia

Transgender
Trans-******
Trans-woman
Trans-Siberian
Transmogrific­ation
Trans-activist
Trans-Atlantic
I am none of these
for i am a woman
by Jemia

My pen
Lay in my bed
We had slept together
No words were spoken
As we made love
As an ****** of ink
Spilled
Onto the ****** white paper
Innocence
Written off
Cast aside
As words
Leaked out
Of this ******* quill
Tickled by its feathers

by Jemia

So England now awaits
As they enter through the Wembley Gates
As Sweet Caroline is sung loud
Hoping to outplay
An Italian display
Far from the maddening crowd
r

My feelings are clear
As the final draws near
That England win 2-1, against Rome
It's been 55 years
Where we've shed many a tear
At last a trophy will be coming home

by Jemia

What none of us
Have yet realised
Is that planet Earth
Is a massive psychiatric holding unit
For the planet Bulcrapio
We are all implanted
With something in our brain
To disguise the fact
We are all insane
And we have been left
To our own devises
Some of us
Have learnt to adapt
And occasionly recognise bull crap
And thus
Not quite as mad
As some of the others
And some make wild claims
That we are from another planet!
oops!
But it has become apparent
That the most insane
Out of all of us
End up, somehow
Becoming the most powerful
Normally elected by those
Who are possibly more insane
But less ambitious
As why else
Would these people
Get into office
In the first place?
The world hasn't gone mad
It' always been mad
It just seems madder!

by Jemia, formerly Ann Boleyn, and also Cleopatra!

Inside my head
Lies my thread
Where i find
My Abacus mind

I count
Add
Subtract
Divide
And multiply

And all this
Soothes me
Where i find some sense
And equillibrium
Logic, and balance

Whether i check
The pros, and cons
Of my income
And outgoings
And the outcome
Of my ingoings

I find my logic
My peace of mind
Numbers never numb me
Always
Are something
I can count on

by Jemia

Our mother
Who does art at seven
Mallowed by thy game
Thy ring tone comes
Thy shall'st have fun
On earth, by the River Severn
Give us this day
Our daily words said
And forgive us our faux pas
As we forgive those
That faux pas against us
Lead us not into isolation
And deliver us some weevils
For thine is the string pompom
The flower, and short story
For ever, and never
Ah Bisto!
by Jemia

I bought some mint chocolates
They were called After Eight
I'm now eating some, at 2:08 in the morning
They don't specify, after what eight
(ie; after 20:00hrs!)
So i try to rotate
I breathe eight times
Or count to eight
Or how many times
I ate eight After Eights, after eight
But by eating eight After Eights, after eight, eight times
Technically, ive squared it by eight
Eight After Eights, times eight, then eat eight times that
Equates, to a lot of after eights!
I now hate
All those After Eights, i ate
And my palate is in a state
And trying not to procrastinate
As i can no longer think str8!
Ooh, is that the time?
by Jemia

The Torrap II of II
I quite enjoyed this peachy fruit
And rested a while
The sun was shining
And there was a cocophany
Of a myriad sounds
Echoing from the forest below me
And it was then
That a net flew over me
And around me
I was trapped
I flapped in a panic
And swore repeatedly
As i was now deeply distressed
And also wondering
How on earth
I was going to return to my world
And more importantly
To myself
Weeks drifted past
As i was passed around
From pillar to post
And aware
That at some point
I was at sea
I heard a variety of tongues spoken
And met some other parrots
But none like me
Although i was aware
I'd lost the ability
To verbalise properly
I eventually ended up
In a shop window
And to my surprise
And amazement
My partner came into the shop
And purchased me
Took me home
And put me into the very cage
That i'd had my strange transmogrification in
I tried talking to her
To try to explain
That it was me
But my power of speech
Had abandoned me
And all i could do was squawk
Or repeat
"Whose a pretty polly!"
And other A typical inanities
It was then
That i saw
My partner
Had found someone else
I lost my appetite
And wished
I could at least
Return to mirror world again

by Jemia

it's 2:25, and i'm lying in my bed
butterflies and fairies, are circling my head
and sat on my shelves, preparing to attack
are witches and dragons, and a yackety yack
ive a digereedo and a digeree don't
and a mermaid that will, and a mermaid that won't!
ive a gorgon that talks to me, late at night
and a lady vampire, who knows how to bite
so all may not be quite as it seems
these things i see, before i enter my dreams..

As i drew a wider weird, that's wired
Where words, are sometimes your sword
And a minute can feel, so very minute
When your soul is bored, and broad, on board

Wary of what, and where you wear
We're what we were, and will be
As we wait on the weight, that weighs us down
When the sea, is all we can see

And the onus, is on us, to have some nous
When fear of the fare, of what's fair, seems unfair
At tiers of tears, at a groan, grown wrong
And the breath of a hare, is the heir, of your hair

My angst over gnats, that sometimes stang
As i peer at a pier, with a pyre of fire
A sword that's soared, can be translated to words
Where secretly reside, a desire

by Jemia

I walked to my red post box yesterday
The weather was cool, and breezy
The sky was a soft grey
Looked like it would stay that way

It felt similar to the Spring
Although, without the warmth
The birdsong was toned down
And there wasn't many people around

The trees were still cold, and bare
Yet fresh saplings had been recently planted
Young buds already coming through
New young life, to look forward to

Yet there was a silence
An emptiness of hidden ghosts
Safely confined,within their home
The cool moist outside, no place to roam

I watched a film, War Of The Worlds
The Aliens, finally destroyed by a virus
Seemed an ironic hero, to save the human race
Obviously no vaccines available, in outer space

by Jemia

Passing Clouds Of Fantasy
Rise from the Briar bowl
And scamper along the ceiling
Then disperse
Like a Hamadryad
On a dying tree
The soft cumulus, without
Begins to weep
Solitary droplets
Splattering on the rooftops
As a rainbow
Arches over the distant horizon
The sky clears
Whilst the cool Autumn sun
Shrinks with the cold
As light turns to twilight
As the creatures of the night
Sing a gentle serenade
As the trees, stretch, and yawn
In anticipation
Of the coming winter cold
Soon after the sun has set
Birdsong
Is silenced
By the hooting of an owl
And a variety of screeches
From creatures that prowl
The night becomes enchanted
And possessed of a curious mystique
Mesmerised by this sight
As the fairies of the night
Cast their magic
Quite unique

by Jemia

When there is no longer joy
And nothing to fill the hollow void
Or the deep emptiness
Of the abyss
Faltering existence
A poetic heart
Broken dreams
And crushed realities
Shattered like glass
An emptiness pervades
The infinity of despair
Then there is nothing
No farewell serenade
To comfort
Then comes the aftermath
A multitude
Of driven beckoning sorrows
Of guilt
Of sadness
Of despair
Of loss, complete loss
A deep grieving
And helplessness
To late to cure
Until the final act
Has already passed
And its echoes
Like an incurable disease
Proffers no solution
Other than to follow
In the footsteps
Of the ******
Fin
by Jemia

I cried for help
But my voice was lost
In the wilderness
A silent echo
Carried on the wind
I remain
Unheard
And alone
In my saddening solitude
My voice
Now no more
Than a whisper
Of despair
As though my existence
Was never really
There
Other than a particle
Of dissipating
Dust
I will become
No more
Than a distant
Memory
Lost in the fading shadows
Of time

by Jemia

Life
Sometimes cocooned
Sometimes a caterpillar
Always awaiting that butterfly moment
Take wing
Beautiful butterflies
Learn to fly again
And to float
On the soft gentle breezes
Of hope

by Jemia

One fine day
A dragon
Decided
To take up residence
Within the village red telephone box
A meeting was called
In the quietly quaint village hall
The dragon was not invited
The villagers
Came up with a myriad of suggestions
Some suggested shooting the dragon
But thankfully
That was shouted down
Some suggested
Selling it to a zoo, or circus
Not so many protested this proposition
But, not one of them realised
That this was a baby dragon
The baby dragon
Viewed its surroundings
Through the red square holes
Of the old telephone box
And was now trapped
As it had doubled in size overnight
And sighed
It sighed so heavily
That flames shot forth
From it's now large flaring firey nostrils
And such was the intensity of the heat
That the metallic red, square windowed, old telephone box
Melted
So the dragon was now able to break free
And fly free
The villagers
Hearing the noise of it all
Dashed out of their
Cosy three-bedroomed
Thatched country cottages
And watched
As the dragon flew off
Into the sunset
Never to be seen again!

by Jemia

I wonder if vampires
***, or poo
With so much quaffing
Of claret, or blood
If they bite me
My blood may be
Either honey Mead
Or Vindaloo
Flavour
Which could turn them
Kind of funny
And not much to savour
Fang you very much

by Jemia

The Universe is expanding
Into where
I cannot imagine
Some kind of blank space?
No-one seems to know
I imagine
The Universe
Will one day
Will pop!
Like a balloon
In which case
Will it shrivel up
Or blow out
Into a new
Unimaginable infinity?

By Jemia

Black as a mourning
Leaves, a soft lush, velvet hue
Aftermath of teardrops

Changes await now
Knowledge, forsaken, overdue
Reminiscent dusk

Overcome, the black rose
Sensitive, And soft as dew
Evening twilight song

by Jemia

Windswept Daffodils, yellow April
Trumpets parading Narcissus
Mirrored self-obsessiveness
Immortal Asphodel
Lingering lillies
Springtime awakes
Daffodils
Emblem
Wales

From where i'm now sat
Within my balconied flat
I espy just beyond my windowsill
The ruins of the castle, on the hill
Rooftops below, are now coated in white
From the extra snowfall, overnight
Where the snow has fallen, for hundreds of years
The silence lies heavy, like frozen tears
Pirouetting snowflakes, natures ballet, Arabesque
A snow filled sky, a wonderland, so picturesque
Still the castle ruins, look down from the hill
That once had life, but now lies still
Where once kings, and queens, allegedly presided
Over which dragons daringly, and dangerously glided
Still the snow comes down, and decries
Like sheep's wool falling from the skies
White, and pure, and beautiful, and free
A frozen horizon, as far as the eyes can see
But soon, the snow will eventually melt
And the land will soften, and turn to felt
The skies will turn an azure blue, from a silvery grey
And the colours of Spring, will light up our day
With the butterflies, and bees, and birds in full song
The sun will grow warmer, and the days will be long
Yet i'll still remember the cool beauty, of the snow filled skies
With a myriad of memories, and dreams in my eyes
by Jemia

Tonight
I was told
A story
To as yet unfold
That due
To my faux fur hat
And my faux fur coat
I had the appearance
Of a stoat!
But no
I jest in vane
The full moon
Has turned me
A touch insane
That in reality
That i appeared
As a Russian Princess
With a certain amount  
Of finesse
And curiously
As i was sat
Upon a bench
A slightly Mead intoxicated *****
A man passing by
Seemingly of Russian descent
said
"I like your boots!"
" thank thee" said i
I slurped some more Mead
As i gazed
Upon the swirling ocean
As i pondered upon my  
Moonish emotions
by Jemia

If i was a
****
I'd be a lemon curd
Flavour
With a gentle
Crust
And a lemony squidgy
Inner
One little
Nibble
And you'd want me for
Dinner

by Jemia

Ive got frilly ones
lily ones
  and downright silly ones

Holey ones
moley ones
  and cheeky holy moley ones

Pink ones, blue ones
and not to
  misconstrue ones

Purple ones
white ones
  and some to give a fright ones

Red ones
in bed ones
  and some on my head ones! (don't ask!)

After a few quick flickers
i counted 35 pairs of knickers
  (some have still got their stickers)

And why are they called a pair?
when there is only one knicker there
  it's not like socks.....

by Jemia

I was phoned today
And told
That my application
For an extractor fan
Was to be put on hold
The caller was very apologetic
I reassured him
That i realised
That it would of been
An unlikely thing
As i was three floors up
Where even bees did not sting
And that much scaffolding
Would of been needed
A cost to much
To be conceded
He sounded pleased
And surprised
At my positive response
And that my understanding of the reality
Was there to Ensconce
I also said
Not to worry
Ive never been
Or seen
To be a fan of tractors
Thus not an
Ex tractor fan!

by Jemia