24 Jan 2017

No Happy Endings

Those awful words that he was leaving her
filling her with overpowering fear.
Was she dreaming or did she really hear
those awful words that he was leaving her,
the reason he might say them was not clear.
Yet lately it had seemed they were so near,
those awful words that he was leaving her,
filling her with overpowering fear

23 Jan 2017

Ode to the RBC

From the heart the red corpuscle
carries oxygen to muscle
goes all around in just one minute
and then returns with none left in it,
recharging in the lungs before
the heart can whoosh it out once more.

Oh tell me Red, how does it seem
to be a prisoner to haem
and tote round all that iron and stuff
to make sure our organs get enough?
You do so much for little praise
and only live ten dozen days

Those other cells? - we won't go near 'em,
they're busy working in the serum,
whizzing at a rate of knots
some fight infection, some make clots,
but it hurts your pride to hear them say
"red blood cells don't have DNA"?

Oh, worry not, dear little cell,
we know your story very well
and oxygen's our main life stay,
without you we'd just fade away.
So carry on and do your bit -
and keep up your haematocrit...

Guardian Angel

hidden from all others' sight
his quiet strength
becomes her salvation

save for his love
encircling her heart
and softly wrapping her 
in peaceful joy

she would be all alone


when a prize purse of rubies
seems a poor exchange
for that loving heart

where sweet devotion
counts as more valuable
than seams of gold

and glittering prizes
lie in caring smiles
and a warm caress

what other success story
could hold more worth
- there contentment lies

22 Jan 2017

Meet Black

Black can mean so many things
it can be misunderstood,
like when its said in plural
it's both racist and it's rude.
Yet put the small word 'all' in front
and the plural form seems fine 
- who wouldn't want the All Blacks
to play in their front line?

We can think of Guinness drinkers
as they sup on their black grog,
or talk of deep depressives
for those suffering from "black dog."
Black beans will help your colon,
Black-eyed Susans flower in June.
If there are two 'new' in a single month
that will give us a black moon.

Break a strike and you're a blackleg
Blackball someone and they're out
All in all black is quite gloomy
But black coffee may stop gout.
Too much booze may cause a black-out
and black humour makes us laugh,
yet for bad luck to pursue you
let a black cat cross your path.

20 Jan 2017

Basket Case

with his unfurled umbrella
this strange little fella
perches in the park
just before dark
occasionally sings 
fluttering his wings
he was first seen 
late in 1915 

BASKET CASE - While it tends to be used fairly light-heartedly today (usually describing someone who constantly makes stupid mistakes, or seems a bit mad), the original basket case is an unexpectedly gruesome reminder of just how bloody the First World War became. In its original context, a basket case was a soldier who had been so badly injured that he had to be carried from the battlefield in a barrow or basket, usually with the implication that he had lost all four of his limbs.

My Voice

what should be my voice
when writing poetry
- therein lies confusion

avoiding metaphor
and extravagant words
- appears too simple for some

while attending rhyme,
rhythm and meter
- others find unacceptable

following my own path
learning and growing all the while
- must be the way forward

because even though I could
copy their ways of writing
- and reproduce their style

I don't really want that
because their words aren't mine
- my voice is my own

18 Jan 2017


her thin cries too delicate to tend
unheard by those she wants to hear
the words distorted by life's wind

a yearning that's never going to end
her heart song reaches no-one's ear
her thin cries too delicate to tend

how long for broken hearts to mend
the answer is one she cannot hear
the words distorted by life's wind

that story she can never now amend
is the burden that only she will bear
her thin cries too delicate to tend

she calls out and cannot comprehend
why she's too weary to even shed a tear
the words distorted by life's wind

in darkness she's desperate for a friend
distanced from all whom she held dear
her thin cries too delicate to tend
the words distorted by life's wind

[This villanelle is based on two lines taken from a previous short poem of mine]

© Lesly Frances Finn

16 Jan 2017

Of Aether

only gods may breathe 

that bright air beyond the stars

mortals are denied

A Word To The (Not So) Wise

Long poems are often a bore

Just remember the rule 'less is more'

It's a point of conjecture

But I don't want a lecture

Please allow other poets the floor

Cat Rescue

'Please let me out', says little kitty
with tabby fur and face so pretty
'I'm waiting for that special one
to fall in love and take me home.
Perhaps you will?'

'Oh kitty dear, I wish I could
if I were able to I would,
but there is a lonely man I know
who'd love to have a cat and so
- Maybe he will.'

13 Jan 2017


Farewell troubadour

please travel safely onwards

but don't forget your pen!


Nothing stays the same

Our dreams may well not come true

But keep hope alive

Last Orders, Please

Time's up for those already dead
It waits for no man
Digging our graves as we speak

Staying Alive

who are we to write such things

about heartbreak, about ending it all
bemoaning our lot, wailing our pain
oh woe is me, we cry
what luxury 
what self-indulgence
while others have no choice in the matter
but to endure the unendurable
so hush now
see what tomorrow brings
while staying alive

Two Short Poems!

no more driving in reverse
won't look back through any door 
old ties or other circumstance
no use to me no more


Think it must'a
lost some lustre
getting this far....

Think I blew it
before I knew it
- so there we are!

Word Thief

it floats before her eyes

just out of reach
she's lost the ultimate prize
the gift of speech

she'd push 'gainst any door
if she could hear
the words she's looking for
now blocked by fear

no matter how she tries
no way she'll find
a word that clarifies
what's in her mind

of thoughts which filled her heart
no longer aware
unable to play her part
unable to share

Road Kill








All round

Every week, sometimes every day, car loads of teenagers come to grief driving too fast on our roads while tanked up with drugs or booze.

11 Jan 2017

Reality Check (extended version of my poem 'A New Reality')

Where is she,
the me I used to be?
Fading, shredding, wafting free
in ragged pieces, desperately
spinning, shrinking, hard to see.
Pretending, as things become less clear,
that nothing's wrong, I am still here.

Inside I sigh
and tell physicians passing by 
I'm not the same, although I try,
I'm crawling where I used to fly.
Harsh truth is better than a lie -
few treatment options for a brain,
Just wish I could be me again.

iamb stew!

She thought that it would cramp her style
to write in such a way
- to think in quatrains all the while
would surely spoil her day?

'Free-flowing stuff', she's heard to sigh,
'would be a waste of time',
to meet the brief she'd have to try
to get her ode to rhyme.

She finds that it is not much fun
to wrack her puny brain
when counting iambs one by one
to make up each quatrain.

She's got more guts than she's aware,
nothing's gonna beat her,
she knows that judgment will be fair
- just a case of meter.....

Contest  -  All Poetry.
This style of poetry comes out in rhyming quatrains of 4,3,4,3 iambs. That's 8 syllables, then 6, followed by 8, then 6 again .... with the stresses on the even syllables.


Shiny, new, no scratches or baggage, 
one careful owner, 
plenty of room for two, 
if you care to travel with me - 
miles of love and devotion ahead. 
Please say yes!

Of Aether (short poem)

only gods may breathe 
that bright air beyond the stars
mortals are denied

8 Jan 2017


her thin cries were too delicate to tend
her words distorted by life's wind
lost to those supposed to hear
her heart song reaching no-one's ear

The above is a poem written for a competition on All Poetry.  It did not win but received some nice comments. For the contest one had to begin a poem using one of six sentences proposed by the judge.