MY POETRY BOOK

My Great Aunt is rich.

She wears a black hat

’Cos she’s really a witch.

She’s got a black cat.

She wears a black hat

When she asks me to tea.

She’s got a black cat.

That stares straight at me.

When she asks me to tea

With her beady glass eye

That stares straight at me,

I don’t dare to cry.

With her beady glass eye

(’Cos she’s really a witch)

I don’t dare to cry:

My Great Aunt is rich.

A pantoum by Jamie Jenkyn 2020

Why can’t I just do what I want, mummy?

Now, what am I to tell this little one,

His eyes wide blue, his face a guiltless grin?

Is innocent enjoyment such a sin?

I will not be the one to spoil his fun.

Am I to say that God forbids his play?

“He sent His laws since mankind is too proud,

And what you want to do is not allowed.”

How can we know what God wants anyway?

Or should I say: “Think not of your own bliss!

Let others’ happiness become your goal

And feel their joy illuminate your soul!”

But does their pleasure mean much more than his?

“Keep this in mind in everything you do,

That no man’s act is felt by him alone;

For all your harmful deeds you must atone

And those you damage will remember you.”

Jamie Jenkyn 2009

In the crowded city street,

Traffic trundling, pedestrians prattling,

I spied a woman, walking

BACKWARDS.

Her eyes were darting, wide,

All seeing, all understanding

Taking in everything she

HAD PASSED

Two youthful helpers held each hand.

They pushed her left, they pulled her right,

Tugged for whoa and whipped for go, like

GUIDE DOGS.

An inefficient navigation system!

There were crashes and collisions,

Stumbles and staggers, but, all the same, some

PROGRESS

In search of an explanation,

I grabbed an erudite passer-by

and was told she was a

POLITICIAN.