What have you done my wasted wine? My dress is torn, my hands are shaking; He spied on you atop the pine - His limbs you rent, his head for staking. I thought he was a mountain lion, I thought I saved us from destruction; Destroyed you have your only scion - By … Continue reading Wine
A year ago today I started this blog. I had no idea what I was doing or indeed what this blog would be about. I started in prose and wrote about Esther’s challenges and (small) triumphs working within higher education in the UK. These accounts are largely autobiographical, with nods to anonymity through pseudonyms of … Continue reading One
Were I young (and not so old), I'd have kids now, not later. I am young (and please don't scold), I plan to terminate her.
I left my heart in Bristol a long, long time ago, I left it down the Harbourside where boats and people flow. Someone said they saw it drinking wine Under the Stars, It looked quite merry sitting there as pigeons pecked a Mars. It said, your life from now on in must manage … Continue reading To Bristol
Autumn comes with mists and showers, The evenings they close in; Coldness threatens, darkness lours And I get pissed on gin.
Give me your bow of burnished steel, Your arrows sharp and deadly, Give me your pure and righteous zeal – To kill this scum directly. What has been done my wretched child? Explain why you are shaking; Before I grant you vengeance wild, Make sure you're not mistaken. He promised love, he … Continue reading Hunter
You wore tights till you were ten, They kept your goolies cosy; Now tights it seems are not for men, Unless you ride the toby*. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pc1am3KyYgA *ride the toby – to practise highway robbery. Beale, P. (Ed.) (1984) A Dictionary of Slang and Unconventional English London: Routledge. pp. 1242 'Men in tights' song … Continue reading Tights