Though Mother’s Pride is so last year
and granary bread a stale idea,
we can go far too far, I fear,
and Finland’s brand-new loaf is
a veritable insect feast
which adds in crickets with the yeast.
They’re on a roll with mini-beasts.
Mind if I stick with Hovis?
© Fran Hill
Fran Hill is a writer and English teacher based in Warwickshire, UK.
Sonnet for a Swastika
Digging foundations for a changing room
To be enjoyed for sporting purposes,
A German excavator exposes
A concrete swastika, symbol of doom;
More evil than a witches hat or broom,
Half a metre below calm surfaces,
That for several decades showed no traces
Of a twisted cross buried in the gloom.
Now in Hamburg hammers are assembled
To break up this great abomination,
And as in days when the Third Reich crumbled,
Tracked vehicles advance from their station
Crushing defences, enemies humbled,
Destroying all sign of opposition.
© David Subacchi
David Subacchi lives in Wales (UK) where he was born of Italian roots. He studied at the University of Liverpool and has 4 published collections of his English Language poetry: First Cut (2012), Hiding in Shadows (2014), Not Really a Stranger (2016) and A Terrible Beauty (2016) as well as a collection in Welsh: Eglwys Yng Nghremona (2016).
