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


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


isn’t always what it seems.

Eleanor Nesbitt, via email