Poetry

Please read and enjoy these submissions!

Remember to take note of the code (poe1-poe39) and to vote here for first place, here for second place and here for third place.

poe4: boomslang

sly old uncle harry avoids
dishwashing duties, slipping suddenly
behind the chalet for a quick, nervous smoke.

tall and thin, his eye
flickers over the available talent,
sidling up to a likely victim
with a certain, sinuous skill.

with vague, unsubstantiated stories
of a strange life centred somewhere in africa,
his yellow eyes give nothing away.

I would not be surprised
if he appeared, magically transformed
in my dreams,
changing shape just as my fear
stopped me in my tracks.

but do not be afraid,
for dear uncle harry is more
frightened of us