An insect 
researcher 
from Dover
Feared bites from 
mosquitoes all over.
But it was gnats
In harmless hats.
That was nothing 
to be feared 
over.

**Naughty poem, 
riding in,
Asked me if 
it might come in.
"Write me down!" 
it dared to plead—
But I shouted: 
"Leave with speed!"
For it wore 
a filthy shirt,
Stained by riding 
through the dirt.**

A spider never went to school.
Nevertheless, without a tool,
through extraordinary skills,
(it never took some power pills)
it cleverly builds woven webs
to make a nest for all its eggs.

Which teacher taught this living thing
that's acting like a weaver king?
A loving network is the earth.
We have to trust within her birth.

Little Boxes
*
 When I opened the matchbox 
and looked inside, I 
naturally expected 
to find something, 
because there’s usually 
something in boxes and 
containers. I wasn’t 
expecting matches — no, 
definitely not! I wasn’t 
that unimaginative, after 
all. But there was 
nothing inside except a 
small spinning disc with a 
spiral painted on it. 
It looked like a 
whirlwind, but one trapped 
in a box. I’d never seen 
anything like it before. 
Without thinking, I spread 
myself thin and leapt into 
the blue spiral vortex. 
Instantly, I felt dizzy. 
Everything spun around me, 
and suddenly, I was sitting 
in a meadow, where a tree 
stood, solitary, but strong. 
Oddly, matchboxes hung from 
its branches like fruit. I 
picked one and looked inside. 
Of course, I expected to find 
something. Matches? No, 
definitely not! I wasn’t 
that unimaginative now. 
But once again, there was 
nothing inside except a 
small spinning disc with 
a spiral, like the one I 
had just encountered. 
A whirlwind, trapped in 
a box. It was all too 
familiar. Once more, I 
spread myself thin 
and jumped into the 
blue spiral vortex. 
The dizziness returned, 
this time even stronger, 
and when the spinning 
stopped, I was back in 
the meadow, only now there 
were more trees—trees 
with matchboxes growing 
on them. I plucked one, 
my hand hesitating over 
the lid. But this time, 
I was afraid 
to look inside.

Florabella_004
*

Florabella_003
*
Don't touch me
*
As Florabella 
was a child,
she was not 
often caressed
or pampered 
with kisses.
She decided 
to compensate
for this lack 
by trying
to give others 
what she herself
so painfully missed:
Flora enjoys 
the gentlest touch.
No touch will 
ever be too much.
To be in touch 
always feels good,
It makes her happy,
Calms all her blood.
That's why she wants
To touch the blokes.
She does it not 
for making jokes.
The blokes shall feel
What she enjoys.
Different opinions 
have the boys.
The blokes 
freaked out
When she 
had stroked.
They pushed 
her back.
She had 
provoked.
They said 
displeased:
"Listen, my dear,
this is not 
appreciated here!"
She wants to give,
What she had missed,
But people 
don't like
To be kissed.
*

Florabella_002
*

As a child, she 
had stolen tomatoes 
from her neighbor's 
garden. Her mother 
discovered the theft, 
hit her, and shouted: 
"You stupid thing! 
You good-for-nothing! 
You are a silly prat!"
That's when she decided 
to become a poet, 
because she mixed up 
the words "prat" 
and "poet."
She sat down at 
the kitchen table, 
took a pencil and 
a piece of paper 
and wrote:
"Dearest child, 
now go to school.
On your way, stay 
brave and cool!
Sit on chair and 
learn for life!
Eat sandwiches
and do survive!"
Her mother found the 
note and destroyed it. 
She threw it into the fire 
of the coal stove that 
stood in the kitchen. 
Social criticism 
was not welcome. 
This was the birth 
of her poetic activities.
*

Florabella Darlington
*
Happy Birthday
*
When it was born, 
its mother said:
"Who made this 
ugly bomb?
I can't believe, 
but I'm afraid
it came out 
of my womb!"
So its mother 
always called it
"That Thing."
But its grandmother, 
trained as a fairy,
gave it the 
name "Flora"
because of her 
love for nature,
where even ugly 
plants make sense.
Many years later,
it gave itself
the artist name
"Florabella Darlington,"
because it had learned
to love itself.
Now you can 
read her poems 
everywhere 
in the world.