We stand at attention on our rock;
the perfect place, we all agree
to watch the regular displays
of meermortals gathering to see

how closely we are watching them
as, squealing inexplicably,
they point as if they think our home 
is where they really want to be.

I have a clock
that tells the time
with only one hand
and a mighty chime.

I think it is
A clever clock.
It doesn't go tick,
It only goes tock.

Attached between the branches
of an artist’s chosen trees
a masterpiece of nature
quivers gently in the breeze.
Caressed by gentle rainfall
it holds fast within its stays,
the sun creating diamonds
as the lacework lightly sways.

But looks can be deceptive,
our perception can be wrong.
This filigree’s not fragile,
but miraculously strong
and made with no attention
to emotions humans feel.
This work’s a mere contraption
made to catch a tasty meal.

Dimpled dinosaurs driving

Dandy dinosaurs dancing

Dreamy dinosaurs drinking

Dexterous dinosaurs dinking

Dainty dinosaurs dazzling

Devilish dinosaurs diving

Dozy dinosaurs dallying

Delicate dinosaurs dawdling

© Katherine Gallagher

I took Billy and Archer
0n a long walk
Barked at each other
Because they can’t talk.

Birds were chirping
Whilst on our walk
Chirped at each other
Because they can’t talk.

Ducks were  quacking,
Whilst on our walk
Quacked at each other
Because they can’t talk.

Frogs were croaking
Whilst on our walk
Croaked at each other
Because they can’t talk.

I talk to the two
Whilst on our walk
They understand me
Because I can talk.

Fairy bread

is far and away

the best thing to eat

on your birthday.

Hundreds and thousands

sprinkled thickly

on fresh white bread,

and it isn’t sickly.

It’s my favourite

but there is a must —

before you serve it,

cut off the crust!

For those out there

Who need to hear

A kindly word that says,

“I care.”

For those in times

So hard to bear,

Is there someone

Anywhere

Who’ll feel their need

And plant a seed

Of love to share?

I go to the hedge of our holiday-cottage
to trim branches within easy reach.
I am cutting edgily until two eyes
fix mine. Not a sound passes between us,
but we understand each other.
The Blackbird on her nest is intent.
Without a second look, I withdraw,
murmuring apologies.

From Acres of Light, Arc Publication, 2016 © Katherine Gallagher