Friday, 20 January 2012


Foreword: At the 1994 Glastonbury festival,  the poetry tent set a challenge for people to write a poem about a beetle in 10 minutes. It took me 6 minutes to write this. I was at home. 

I met a little beetle sat on my front door
I offered it a crisp, it asked if I had more,
I invited the little beetle up into my flat
for coffee and a sandwich and maybe a small chat.

The beetle seemed quite happy to have me as a new friend,
but someone walked past and squashed it.
And now this poem finishes,
for just like the little beetle
all good things must come to an end.

This poem is dedicated to Crunch the beetle. 
I called him Crunch because that was the last thing he said.... Or went.  

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