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  Coloured Prometheus fashioned his men carefully as if he knew   they would inhabit the earth for a long time   once they could breathe. He surveyed them with satisfaction, beautiful earthenware bodies all with different features splendidly clay-coloured, earth-made for Earth. He almost called Zeus right then to view his creations, but he had second thoughts, as artists always do, maybe a little tweak was needed, a little tweak, or perhaps, a little colour. He searched the earth for pigments and coloured his men. The blue and green were his favourites though he was pleased with them all. It was then that he called Zeus.   Zeus appeared at once in great excitement   in his eagerness to see the new men. He looked for them impatiently, but they were smaller than he expected so at first he didn’t see them at all and as his big feet stood heavily down trampling the ground as big feet often do,   he crushed them. So that is why   there are no blue men and n...
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  Birthing Pains The stars didn’t shine for them, and the wise men don’t notice those women giving birth   in ramshackle sheds or freezing in tents   in the rubble and dirt of what remains. So there are no Magi to bring gifts, no shepherds to bring succour to those women giving birth   in ramshackle sheds or freezing in tents   in the rubble and dirt of what remains. Maybe artists will paint the scene so that we can all see it, that scene   we have already seen on a screen   somewhere and we already know it’s happening again. We need no artists when and then we don’t look anymore. https://www.literaryheist.com/poetry/birthing-pains/
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  Frog She looked into the pond where the frog, sitting on a lily pad looked back at her alert   its eyes meeting hers. She remembered the story about a frog, how it became a prince when kissed. She thought of the sleeping beauty and how she awoke to the kiss of a prince. So, it seemed that kisses and princes must have some connection. The frog was very still. She thought it may be   still enough to kiss but she couldn’t quite reach though she tried and tried and tried while the frog stayed there still waiting.   And then it spoke. “I’m no prince,” it said. “But I’ll come closer, I’d still like a kiss.” https://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/
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  The House of Venomous Things They lie deep, the scurrilous snakes in the grass. They lie big, even the little ones just hanging on. Then there are the venomous ones,  poisonous as politicians rattling around the half empty chamber ready to pounce on a stray human voice. Only the brave or the foolish will enter that House, to watch them turn their tricks, marvel at the magic of their performance. Only the brave, the foolish or the Super Snakes who wait in the wings ready to walk on the stage. Take care when you enter that House. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2024/12/19/5-poems-by-lynn-white/
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  Round And Round Round and round,  go the gaudy horses  trotting cantering  round and round the small sawdust ring with the Ring Master in control holding his whip close making sure the show goes on. Round and round they go, with a bareback rider  glamorous smiling swaying on a rump, but the smiles are fading now  and the once bright horses  drab and disheveled now hoping for the clowns to give them a break they’re staggering  lurching round and round  their treadmill. Round and round. Round and round. Just one more revolution and they'll be ready. Ready to bite the hands that refused to feed them. Round and round. Round and round. Only one more revolution, to sharpen up the teeth.  Round and round, just one more revolution. What a circus. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2024/12/19/5-poems-by-lynn-white/
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  Watering Hole We all need a watering hole bug or beast, fish or fowl, mammal or mayfly, we all need it sometimes. Sometimes our eyes can catch sight of it in the deserty distance and sometimes  it’s close, so close but we’re on the wrong side of the water splattered glass looking out useless so useless we can only see it only cry tears  cry out for help. Will anyone help? Yes or no? We can only hope, hope that the ayes will have it, otherwise the eyes are all there are and only wet enough for the lucky little ones. https://chewersmasticadores.wordpress.com/2024/12/19/5-poems-by-lynn-white/
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