On Tender Hooks
- by Brian Bilston
Let me cut to the cheese:
every time you open your mouth,
I’m on tender hooks.
You charge at the English language
like a bowl in a china shop.
Please nip it in the butt.
On the spurt of the moment,
the phrases tumble out.
It’s time you gave up the goat.
Curve your enthusiasm.
Don’t give them free range.
The chickens will come home to roast.
Now you are in high dungeon.
You think me a damp squid:
on your phrases I shouldn’t impose.
But they spread like wildflowers
in a doggy-dog world,
and your spear of influence grows.
Wow! How striking,
Tom
Tom – It is, isn’t it? It almost reconciles me to spiders. Almost . . .
What a wonderful world. It is all so miraculous.
Barbara – Well, yes, although there are some slimy bits, too. I saw a green heron cavorting in a pond in St. Augustine this week and got 1 or 2 almost sharp photos, but the pond he was in was scummy. It doesn’t make for nice photos.
Splendid composition! This web makes a fascinating subject because we have become so accustomed to the geometrical webs. I will watch for more of these.
Laurna – Thank you. I only saw this one because the sun was in the right position and it was at the right height for me. Sorta makes you wonder what we miss . . .