Someone had to do it…. Take 5.

Brubeck Blues

Sax to the beat

wilful wistful wily

Drifting down the street



Piano vamping

Blues scaling

E flat minor Brubeck stomping

Five four time, once more

Five four time.


© Alison Jean Hankinson

For d’Verse….TAKE 5…..

Image Wikimedia






Feel that walking bass…

On the one level

it was a tango fandango.

A pink flamingo

a daring dance of dating

in the early throes of spring.



Shrill trumpet rising

sounds of Chuck Mangione

staccato toccata- reminiscent of Children of Sanchez

Conspiring to court Consuelo’s love

With a pink flamingo face.


One legged lover

with snazzy syncopated rhythm

with a strut to the left olé

and a strut to the right olé

strum that walking bass.


© Alison Jean Hankinson

Things have been out of kilter this month and hence I am a little behind in things.

For d’Verse….

This is Tuesday’s poetics prompt that I didn’t finish….merging with meeting at the bar- and all that jazz….incidentally I think pink flamingoes merge well with jazz…

Links to Chuck..

Children of Sanchez

The image is from Wikipedia and has creative commons licence:

File: James’s Flamingo mating ritual.jpg

by Pedros Szekely,



Shades of 50.

It is done, my fiftieth birthday year finally gone

Kicked the ass out of that, had a bit of fun

Moved house and home,

And now it is done.

Heartaches and happiness all in one.

What a year, glad to move on to 51.


© Alison Jean Hankinson

this is a bit cheesy but all I could muster for this week’s Quadrille at d’Verse. I celebrated my fiftieth birthday in hospital and it has been a roller-coaster of a year and I think some of the biggest dips were in the last week, so I was a bit quiet….So tomorrow I start a new day, and a new year… and I will be 51.

I miss my Ellen though and would love to have her home with me. XXXX

Service announcement….in the half term break…

“Service announcement- Warehouse colleagues to the warehouse please.”


All the jobs I could have done

This one sounds like so much fun

Making announcements in a store

Calling to workers on the shop floor.


Instead I write reports and mark

Plan my lessons until it is dark

My life is ruled by lessons and bells

Punctuated by rogues and ne-er do wells.


I wouldn’t want to be a zoo-keeper

A nurse, doctor or cabinet maker

I often dream of what might be

Acting in Coronation Street might suit me.


Instead I create my schemes of work

Make presentations that sometimes work

I smile with joy when students succeed

In our tough teens I still believe.


©Alison Jean Hankinson





More Magic

Herbs and bits of stick

medicines to cure

gardening lemongrass, hogweeds, valerian.


Rituals and superstitions

lunar chart an astrological schedule

The garden thrived.


Chinese medicine, English folklore

Everyday magic

Layman’s alchemy.


Alison Jean Hankinson

A second contribution for d’Verse MTB, using the erasure style…a second stab at Magic…but from a different source….

Image-spices and herbs by futureshape.

blackout 2


All the house was silent

Night-light burning on the mantelpiece

Off to sleep.


Spring came

Long days in the garden

Rides in the wheelbarrow.


Long June evenings

The bracken swayed gently

The sun sank lower.


Thicket of raspberry canes growing tall

Tropical jungle in long sunlit hours

Fairy huts in the flowerbed.


Quiet evenings in the wood

A tear fell to the ground

And a flower grew.


A mysterious flower

Slender green leaves the colour of emeralds

Blossom like a golden cup.


The moon had risen

The forest was beautiful, fronds like frosted silver

Tree-trunks wild danced with their shadows.


Velvet grass dancing, the fairy kissed him

Springing jumping whirling

He was real at last.


Alison Jean Hankinson.

This is for d”verse MTB.

I ought to add this is a form called erasure or blackout.

The text was too large to put the whole as a picture….see if you can spot where it came from….The other image might help a tiny bit….it is Emily’s…shh….



Charlie the pheasant…

Charlie was a pheasant

Who lived out in the bush

He came out when the sun shone

Eating insects in a rush


His wife was rather drab

In plumage next to him

She strutted across the garden

In sunshine frost and rain.


Mating calls would echo

Springtime rooster ruled the lair

Sometimes he had a harem

For the pheasant chicks to fare


Charlie was a pheasant

Who didn’t live for long

But in this time brought happiness

Despite his awful song.


©Alison Jean Hankinson

Submitted for d’verse open link night.