Tuesday, 12 July 2011


When the mosquito went to bite,
the sweat on the chest was like a lake
so it dived and skimmed then
slipped away, taking perhaps
comfort in the small-minded
grace of such spontaneous things;
and he was in his own way relieved
with the chance promoted by heat
and perspiration, although clearly
unaware of being unassailed,
so that between this pair
there was a balancing of forces which
viewed by the relative nature of things
just about crystallises perfection.


  1. At the risk of sounding repetitive, I love the concept in this one-the unusual way in which you use something like a mosquito and the lack of realisation
    to illustrate such a profound idea. You definitely need to put these recent poetic offerings into a collection!

  2. Thanks again. For the record, some of these poems are new, some have been around for a while, not that this should matter. Alas, you might be the only one Trish to buy a collection!