March 16, 2012

                                        

Victorian values,

 Material wealth.

Where are the teachers

From bygone days?

 

Servants and kings,

Jesters who sing.

Horses and carriages,

Arranged marriages

 

Change for the better

Change for the worse

But still beware

 Of the witches curse.

 

Edwardian England

OccupiedFrance

Please take your partner,

For the next dance.

 

March 14, 2012

The love that you showed him throughout his life

Cannot be measured or deleted

For you gave him much joy, it has to be said 

Until his final breathe was completed

 

He cannot be replaced, nor should he be

He was precious beyond compare

You need some time to grieve for him

Which of course, is only fair

 

 Dogs live so long, they become family

They are loyal and trusting, it’s true

And only you know what tomorrow will bring

Maybe even a CAT or two!

 

So you mustn’t be sad,  just remember his ways

And the fun that you had through the years

He’ll stay in your mind and pop into your thoughts

Helping  you smile through your tears.

Cups and saucers on silver trays,

What better sight on sunny days?

 

Sat in the garden on the bench,

In the company of a sprightly wench.

 

I’ll have some sugar, two lumps please.

Oh, you are a sweet little tease.

 

I’ll chase you round the apple tree,

But only after I’ve taken tea.

 

These shortbread biscuits are divine,

Perhaps you’d like a drop of wine?

 

And another glass, maybe?

Yes, that’s better…. Sod the tea.

 

Let’s get merry in case we die.

Let not our life just pass us by.

 

Each second wasted is a loss,

Oh look! There goes an albatross

 

Let’s make hay whilst the sun doth shine,

Isn’t life just so sublime

 

 

Oh, we laughed until the cows came home

The joy we felt was beyond compare

We never thought for a moment

That next morning, he wouldn’t be there.

 

 

 

It must have been the

scented aroma of

seasonal clementines

that aroused her senses

and made her recall the

first time she lay with

him,  in a house with

far too many bodies and far

too few beds – all quite

innocent – until daybreak

dawned when their future

was sealed and how they

squealed!

 

 

 

 

Unjust infiltration

And seasonal brussel sprouts

Rudimentary radishes

And nagging self doubts

All perishable commodities

All five-a-day louts

 

 

The clickety-clack of the railway track

Taking me back, taking me back.

Standing room only

I’m about to crack.

Clickety-clack, clickety-clack.

Squashed next to a girl

Exposing her breasts

Taking me back, taking me back.

To when I was a lad

And a thrust I could pack

Clickety-clack, clickety-clack.

The train is delayed

From the wife I’ll get flack

Taking me back, taking me back.

Outside it is raining

And I haven’t a mac

Clickety-clack, clickety-clack.

The will to live

Is what I lack.

Taking me back, taking me back.

 

March 12, 2012

 

 

The corn fed chicken was free to roam

The farmyard paths that it called home .

 

The greedy pig used to like to scoff,

All the rubbish that was in the trough.

 

The gaggle of geese would stand so proud

But when they spoke, my god, they were loud.

 

The resident sheepdog was ever so bright,

He was the only one to see the light.

 

 Old MacDonald had long since died,

‘Not before time,’ his wife she sighed.

 

The children had gone to pastures new

But the cows still stood  and sang with a moo.

 

The little old donkey in the far off grass

Backed up to the fence to scratch his ass.

 

The buttercups swayed in the gentle breeze

As the cat sat scratching away at its fleas.

 

Life seemed good – It was a normal day

As the farmhand romped away in the hay.

 

 

 

I just can’t seem to get on today 

I just can’t get ahead.

I’m still sorting yesterday’s queries

And promising leads that now seem dead.

 

I just can’t raise my energy level.

My morale, It is very low

Where’s that boost of adrenaline gone?

I had it last week, I know.

 

Our monthly figures are way out,

There must be a hidden agenda!

My secretary’s gone on her holiday

And left me a ‘temp’ called Brenda

 

She doesn’t know how I operate

And she makes really lousy tea.

And she has an annoying giggle

That is really getting to me

 

The children are driving my wife mad,

They are on their school holiday.

On top of which my In-laws have come

And are here for a fortnights stay!

 

I think that I’m losing my marbles.

Roll on autumn for goodness sake.

When we all can get back to normality

After the summer break.

 

When the balance of the mind untips,

And words not meant are on our lips,

And museum archives get trotted out,

It’s that time of the month again!

 

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