friendship #tiki’sguild

Ingrid has invited us to discuss things we are grateful for here at #dversepoets pub. so here is a piece I wrote to be shared with the friends I have in one of the two writing and spoken word groups I am a part of. the pic (taken 2018) is of my first time sharing at an open mic in the Tiki’s coffee shop where the group formed shortly after. the friendship group has outlasted the coffee shop which sadly closed in December. I am always grateful for such friendships. even if I do poke fun at them from time to time. I have read this to them.

Guild Party line!

(A poem about friendship. Six almost limericks poking fun at the friends of the Tikis writer’s guild.)

tiki’s coffee shop open mic.

There’s a lad called Mark, who’s not socially mobile.

Who would love to grow up to be noble.

He loved to give everybody a ring.

But his conversations sometimes would sting,

Not everyone he would ring were so docile.

Suave Dave he did sing, creating quite the buzz,

After he shaved off his facial fuzz,

Clean shaven and bald faced,

Thought he had the new song aced,

Thinking everyone listened, but nobody does.

Long tall Tony loved to give the girls a bell,

He knew the way to their hearts with what to tell,

Tall tales he had sold about his height,

With the girls he meets, did they get a fright,

And that why Tony came to dwell in his cell.

Big hearted James was shy about when he had to tinkle,

He thought everyone’s noses would always wrinkle,

So would always avoid any one on the blower,

Even if he had to tinkle a little slower

It’s just a shame he was a tad fickle.

Verena was the lonely lady of raspberry city,

Lived alone and only ever spoke a little ditty,

Until she drank a cheeky raspberry cocktail,

Then chatted to much she forgot to exhale,

Now her appearance looks awfully s****y.

(Re written from a blog post).

Rog, worked to sell crap over the dog and bone,

He would always speak in the same tone,

could always make his customers fidget,

Trying to get them to spend over budget,

Even when in the little room sitting on the throne.

©12/11/2022 rog leach

Starlorn # quadrille

it is #quadrille time again at #dversepoetspub where we are talking stars. One of the pictures shared at the poets pub tonight was Vincent Van Cogh starry night. One of my favourite pictures and inspiration for the wonderful song starry starry night by Don Mclean.

It also got me thinking of the dictionary of obscure sorrows compiled by John Koenig which introduces us to the word Starlorn (page236) meaning to feel loneliness looking up at the sky feeling like castaway marooned in the middle of an ocean.

Starlorn #Quadrille.

I am a poet lost Starlorn amongst other poets,

This feeling of not belong grows,

Other poets shining brighter,

With each starry poem,

They leave in the night sky.

Marooned among the stars,

Learning to pay my way,

Leaving little ditties behind.

Starlorn still.

© 06/02/2023 rog leach

no lies



thanks Punam for talking about resolutions this week @#dversepoets

little liars

No lies!

I resolved not to set resolutions,

I found them to be little white,

LIES. Others tell you.

Telling I myself this year I could,

Do so much,

LIES. Others have convinced me I should be.

Teaching my children,

Not to,


So why do I,

Lie. To myself.

About what is expected

Enough I said one,

New Year’s Eve,

Stop lying to yourself.

So, no more lies,

Live life,

Have fun,

I will never be,

Rich or Skinny, or living on a tropical isle,

Or keep all the liars around me happy.

Bollocks to resolutions, live your life your way be happy.

© 31/01/2023 rog leach

Ice maiden

today @ #dversepoets pub it is quadrille day where Mish has left us with the word “ICE” to work with. Winter can be an icy madam to cope with.

ice prongs of love

Ice maiden 44!!

#Quadrille, #dverse.

She dances on thin ice,

This frosty winter maiden,

Leaving me frozen flowers,

Trying to steal springs warmth.

Her detached heart craving,

Coveting the warmth of love,

But she knows passion,

Will melt her cold core,

On first day of spring,

Her heart melts.

©23/01/2023 rog leach

Inner cold

house boats

Inner cold!

#dverse, #morningride #bluemonday

Losing my inner warmth,

Crisp callous morning air,

Welcomes my nostrils,

Reminding my drowsy body,

That winter still rules.

Crispy lawns and frozen puddles,

Greet me as I ride out,

Of suburbia into,

 Open fields of frost,

Chilling my fingers as I start.

Mist filled valley beckons,

Hiding frozen canal,

Trains’ muffled rumbling,

 Drifts up from within,

The freezing mist ready to engulf.

Past house boats spewing coal smoke,

Warm windows shockingly inviting,

Legs feeling like glacial bulks,

Knees craving summers warmth,

Train thunders past, sparks flying.

under the thunder of traffic.

Under rail bridge, under road bridge,

Past empty lifeless village hall,

Pubs likewise closed until lunch,

Cold shutter door, padlocks frozen shut,

Hot coffee awaits inside once door unlocked.

© 17/01/2023 rog leach

Thanks to Sanaa at #dverse for suggesting we write about winter in this poetic prompt. I have written about the cold freezing fog I had to ride through a couple of weeks ago. I really enjoyed the poem Lines for winter by Mark Strand that you shared that is where the idea for mine was sparked.