How Love Turns

In the Landnámabók

It is written

That Passchendaele cuts deeper

Deeper than the Marianas trench

 

Oceans apart

 

How quick the chilli-red anger

Turns to an icy chill

At Minus 273

And a strong wish to kill

 

Colder than ice

 

The dour Dewar of bitterness

Icing the cake an azure blue

Nitrogen at  number 77

And Helium at four point two

 

Siberian winds

 

Those glacier eyes

Give an Antarctic hug

The icicle tricycle

Now pulls out the rug

 

Never to rub noses

 

Isfjell smoulders deeper

Floating on the sea

Hiding regrets

From both you and from me

 

A heart in Cryostasis

 

All the bears in Svalbard

Have not enough fur

To ease out the thorn

under the skin that does burr

 

The saga is true

 

The price of ice

Is the tale held so firm

A story of ages

That makes the toes squirm

 

No more Happy Feet

 

How quick the chilli-red anger

Turns to an icy chill

At Minus 273

And a strong wish to kill

 

Colder than ice

 

Love turns to hate

As quick as a flash

On bergs such as this

There is no Titanic clash

 

A mouth full of Kumquats

 

The Tamarind tongue

Bends words to its will

Selling a story

Full of unctions ill

 

More dangerous than knives

 

The Lyrebird lives

Proud in its bower

And ruins the life

Of a most precious flower

 

I’ll show him

 

Cost is the price

Which he must now pay

I knew I’d get even

And now is my day

 

A pound of flesh

 

A plate served cold

No dressing, no sauce

Meagre and minced

He has no recourse

 

I have won!!

 

How quick the chilli-red anger

Turns to an icy chill

At Minus 273

And a strong wish to kill

 

Colder than ice