Paper Lanerns

In the school conservatory, the sunlit lanterns stood upright

Along the window sill, dry and bone white.

Each one cut from the same, yet none identical

Little hands put, cut, pressed and folded

Little hands grabbed and dragged lumpy glue across the paper white

Flakes of sequin, shaped like moon and star pinched between finger and thumb

Sprinkle and place, push and sink into glue, a pale translucent icing

Ruby stars, sapphire moons, golden misted and silver dusted, encrusted

Carry them high and shedding a fine path to the great hall for the now season.

Leave them for days until it doesn’t feel bad to throw them away

My sister is an orchestra

My little sister is like a musical instrument,
depending on what mood she is in,

When happy she speaks like the bells of a dozen bicycles
riding through the park on a summers afternoon.


When angry she sounds like drums rolling
down the concrete steps of a fifty story building.


When laughing she sounds like a trumpet doing a jolly solo in a
New Orleans favourite night spot.


My sister is an orchestra of love.