Tag Archives: poem

A Girl Called Pamela Taylor

Posted on by Steve Higgins

I wrote this many years ago and it was called ‘A girl called Paper Tangle.’ It was one of those inspirational poems where you suddenly get an idea and just go with it. It has a nice rhythm and trips along well but I was never happy with the ‘paper tangle’ thing. Anyway, not long ago I changed it to Pamela Taylor and the poem feels so much better. Apologies to any girl called Pamela Taylor!

A Girl Called Pamela Taylor

 

Pamela Taylor wears chic clothes

Designer labels, anything goes.

Her coat has buttons made of gold

She likes to be noticed, she’s bold.

 

Pamela Taylor wears black boots,

Her body is a gun that shoots.

She’s incredibly sexy and overtly erotic

and her taste is impossibly exotic

 

Pamela Taylor has blue-eyed eyes

and discreetly she enters other people’s lives.

She’ll trap you with magnetic sighs

and it’s yourself you’ll probably despise

 

Pamela Taylor knows all the best wine

and any man she wins in time.

She’s every scene-stealer and wheeler-dealer,

And to the social lepers she’s a saintly healer.

 

Pamela Taylor never pays her fees

She opens locks with other people’s keys

One look will slice you through if you tell her lies

Or nothing she can’t easily surmise.

Can you pass the bread?

Posted on by Steve Higgins

quotescover-JPG-52Blood rising Heart pumping

You were the centre of my passion, once

Though now we meet very politely

And exchange pleasantries

And touch on former days,

Lightly

 

Your husband seems nice

And I like the wine he’s chosen

At a very reasonable price.

Though you must forgive me for thinking

How I much prefer the red to the white,

Tonight.

 

Blood rising Heart pumping

Could you pass the bread?

And how much longer can we be gracious when I’m hanging by a thread?

I’m filled with desire

And thoughts I cannot mention

So, Can you pass the bread,

Instead?

The Cat from across the Road

Posted on by Steve Higgins

sam2ed

 

 

Everything seemed in order, I suppose, to die

It was a warm enough day;

Certainly

 

The sun shone and birds sung

Even though birds would cause a feline heart to race

Normally

 

I’ve had my fill of life

Of tit bits and cosy sleeps, sometimes in next doors shed

Informally

 

And I’ve had my chases and midnight hunts

And I’ve always remembered my owners and left them a mouse or two,

Naturally

 

A last cuddle would have been nice

Still, all in all it’s been a good life, and I’ve loved it

Enormously

 

I’ve always liked this tree

I can keep my eye on the birds and the sun comes down

Warmly

 

So now I’ll just close my eyes and die

And go on to the next of my nine lives

Expectantly.