Moira's Favourite Poems
Night Spy glass
Taste of Honey
Letter from Egypt
  Weekend in Paris
  Childrens Poems
Portrait of a Dragon
  My Gran
Count me out
  Nature study

Count me out

It’s not that
I’m a scaredy cat,
It’s just that
I don’t like caves
and the feeling of doom
in the colourless gloom
flowing over you
in waves.

It’s the way
your voice rolls
round and around,
echoing low and weird,
and your torch becomes
such a little light,
every shadow one
to be feared.

It’s the way
the clammy cold
grips you, chills you
through to your very bones
and how every sound
when you’re underground
is some unspeakable thing
that groans.

It’s the way
that you slip
on slime underfoot and it’s
hard to remember the sun,
so when kids want to explore
all the caves on the shore
I say, ‘Count me out.
It’s no fun!’

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