Demoniac Dentistry
Flat on my back, I watch the ceiling,
my mouth is numb, devoid of feeling.
Then from the corner of my eye
I see the strangest thing whizz by.
I swivel eyes to bring in view
this creature - swish - now I see two!
Above my face appears a mask,
gloved hands perform their ghastly task
as with my mouth stretched open wide
they fossick in the teeth inside.
Another swoosh, they disappear,
I quiver, shiver, shake with fear.
From underneath each lowered lid
I watch them scoot and skate and skid.
Around the room they spin and twirl,
one's masculine, and one's a girl.
But legless both, in dervish reels,
attached to bums, a set of wheels.
From nightmare couch at last released,
ballet bizarre I find, has ceased.
And as I leave, my glance, discreet
discovers that they both have feet!
What was there in that Novocaine
that made me high while dulling pain?
Margaret Wilkins © June 2001
Autumn on the Parapara
The road winds upward on its way
round bluffs of papa, bare and grey.
In glory nature celebrates
a change of season, and creates
brief moments, glimpses, treasured views,
her trees on fire in brilliant hues.
On dull and summer sunburnt hill
the coloured leaves of autumn spill.
In river valleys damp and cold
a willow weeps a shower of gold.
While poplars, soldier straight in line
parade with pride their silver shine.
A favourite stop, where river falls
between steep banks, down rocky walls.
The air is bracing, still . . . we hear
a bellbird call, his echo clear.
Cacophonous the magpie-cries,
in squabbling flocks they swoop and rise.
Across the valley tell-tale plumes,
and sweet the scent of bonfire's fumes.
As underfoot the crisp leaves crunch,
with sharpened appetite we lunch,
rejoicing in this autumn day,
those winter chills not far away.
Margaret Wilkins © 1998
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