John Taylor

‘Conversation With a Teddy Bear’ by guest author John Taylor

Tuesday, January 31st, 2012

Guest Poet John Taylor; Photo credit Chris Daw

My name is David. I am six years old. I like football and support Manchester United. I go to Highfield Junior School, and there is something in my closet.

It has been there for a week. It sleeps during the day, and turns invisible so nobody can see it. It also turns invisible when someone turns the lights on, like when I can hear it scratching around in there and shout for Mum to get rid of it.

‘There’s nothing in there, David,’ she always says, and opens the closet door to show me. But Whatever-It-Is is fast, and always manages to hide before she can get the door open.

I know it is in there though, because sometimes my things go missing, like when I was looking for my Action Man when Paul came round to play last Saturday and couldn’t find it, even though I knew I’d put it in there the day before.

I figure if I keep the closet door closed it can’t get out. I think it’s scared of the light too, which is why the scratching stops if I turn the bedside lamp on. Mum always switches the lamp off when she comes in to check on me, but I only pretend to be asleep, and turn it on again as soon as she closes the bedroom door. (more…)

‘Come into the Garden’ by Guest Poet John Taylor

Sunday, January 1st, 2012

Guest Poet John Taylor; Photo credit Chris Daw

Come into the garden, Maud,

It’s a lovely day outside

Come into the garden, Maud,

Whilst the sun is in the sky

Step across the threshold,

And lift your head up high!

Come into the garden, Maud,

It’s a lovely day to die…

(more…)

“The Plains of Lhee” by Guest Poet John Taylor

Wednesday, November 30th, 2011

Guest Poet John Taylor; Photo credit Chris Daw

For many years I traveled far upon a ship of sleep,

My body ageless, kept alive,

While I in conscious dreams survived,

My destination distant stars,

I rode upon a wave of hope and left a dying Earth.

 

Aeons passed as if in days as I in perfect slumber lay

Yet finally my vessel stayed,

Orbiting a yellow globe,

The seventh round a seventh star,

A soulless, barren, deathless world –

For what place can there be for Death

Where there is naught to die? (more…)