By Christabel Simpson

Like jackdaws they came

Chasing money and jewels,

The three victims of

His marriage murders.

He caught them, caged them

And then cast them out.

Best before end of

Your twenty-ninth year.

A danger to birds,

A serial sleaze,

About his old neck,

A sign should be hung...

THE KEYS YOU’RE GIVEN

TO THE TREASURE CHEST

WILL BE SNATCHED AWAY

WHEN HE’S ROBBED YOUR YOUTH!

A tale to be told 

When it’s someone else,

But now his talons

Are reaching for me.

Lightning bolt question –

Have dinner with me?

Scour conversations –

Did one lead to here?

If he’d checked the waves

Before he plunged in,

He would have found out

I only like girls.

You’re wasting your time,

Ancient marrier,

Your wandering eye

Can’t mesmerise me,

So pinch yourself, please,

And not my backside.

You need to shake off

This mad, hopeless dream.