What will we wake up to, tomorrow?
Continue reading “New Day”
Can the sun bear to shine on a new, fresh sorrow?
Where will be hurting?
Who will be crying?
What breed of hate will make sense of the dying?
“Mum!” they shriek
Continue reading “Keeping Cool”
Wriggling like worms,
“We can’t stand still for sun cream,
We promise we won’t burn.
But can we play out in our pants?
That will keep us cool.
We know, no cream, no playing out,
But it’s too hot for that rule!”