Tooth Fairy

She’s my darling, my love
And it comes to us all,
That moment of truth
When you have to stand tall
At the indignity
Of losing a tooth.

I comforted, I cuddled
I wiped away tears
I said you’re a big girl
Of many brave years
And there’s the Tooth Fairy
We’ll give that a whirl.

So she hugged me
And she loved me
And we had our nice fix
Though I tell you right now,
There’s no bloody Tooth Fairy
She’s gone 46!

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Itch

You asked me (straight)
to write a rhyme
about an itch I could not scratch.
I told you (straight)
I spent no time
writing of such things;
only feelings of love,
or hate.

Though inside my mind I have an itch
which signs its name as ‘dark’.
It tells me I stink (I scratch)
wrong things to think (I scratch)
leaves no visible mark as I scratch
and as I stretch and reach for it, it moves,
dangling love in my face
and laughs loudly at my fate.

The Journey

Ambling lazily as usual, I rested for a moment on the crumbling dry stone dyke and watched clouds gather. I turned the flowers in my hand over once more, examining them closely. Would she like them? Would the rain start before I got there? Would I manage back up the hill at all? Did it matter?

I heard the bells of the old church chime eleven times. One more to go, I thought.

When I got there, I laid the flowers down, where none were there before and said my last farewell. It was time to go, rest in peace.