Poetry

Edith Pearl

(In the style of William Hughes Mearns)

Yesterday I met an invisible girl
Who told me that her name was Edith Pearl
She followed me around as a cat does a mouse
While I cooked my dinner
While I cleaned my old house

She told me stories of dust and of old
And complained to me that she felt a bit cold
So I went to fetch a blanket or two
But everything I offered her fell right through!

It’s quiet this morning
As I give my cereal a swirl
I guess this house was too cold
For my friend, Edith Pearl

Poetry

Everything in Its Own Right

Everything is perfect in its own right
From the birds morning call
To the crickets at night
From his missing tooth
To her premature grey hair
From the wombats scuttle
To the felines stare
So before passing judgement
On the gentleman in the suit
On the child blowing bubbles
Or the lady selling fruit
Before you pass judgement
On the people in sight
Remember that we are all perfect
In our own special right