Poem inspired by overheard conversation
A friend suggested that Courier readers might enjoy a poem that began when I overheard a passer-by while I was at a bus stop on the Parade.
Dinosaur biscuits
‘A cutter for dinosaur biscuits’
were all the words I heard.
I wondered what sort of
biscuits
her dinosaur preferred –
ginger nuts or chocolate chip cookies?
And would he like lemon curd?
‘A cutter for dinosaur biscuits’
was all I heard her say.
I wondered if the dinosaur
was coming up to stay
and, if he asked for cakes as well,
whether he’d get his way.
‘A cutter for dinosaur biscuits’:
I’ve tried some in my dreams –
the dinosaur digestives
and dinosaur custard creams –
and found that a dinosaur
biscuit
isn’t always what it seems.
Eleanor Nesbitt, via email