August 31, 2012

 

 

Check and double check,

and then just check some more.

The numbers change so rapidly,

as prices seem to soar.

 

 

August 29, 2012

 

 

What happened to those long hot

summer days, when we sat around

making daisy chains and looking for

four leaved clovers, before making

our way back home under the seven

arches, without a cloud in the sky to

dampen our spirits, or the sound of any

motorway to disturb our simple joy?

 

 

 

 

 

In an argument that she was losing,

she would give me a ‘certain’ look,  saying

‘If you think that you have all the answers,

you should go and write a ruddy book’

 

 

 

 

I can’t come into work again

I’ve been up all night with this cough.

I think it’s turned into consumption,

So I’m taking another week off.

 

We’re having new windows fitted,

So I’ll be on hand to oversee the job.

And at the same time, in the kitchen,

the workmen are fitting a hob.

 

I expect to feel better by monday,

though my head has a murderous throb.

This week sees the end of Wimbledon,

and I haven’t missed a single lob.

 

 

 

August 28, 2012

 

 

The pies and the pasties

The lukewarm tea

The loud-mouthed chanting

Unfit for him at my knee

The queue for the loo

Each man desperate to pee

The cheer from the crowd

The excitement, the glee

The disallowed goal

Scored all in vain

The deafening drumbeat

Of the insane

The missed handball

The Ref’s a ‘gobbin! ’

Sing fifty thousand

Men all sobbin

The desperation

the ‘off-side’ rule

The bloomin’ idiot

The stupid fool

The player was king

A minute ago

Now he’s sent off

for a vicious blow

Then the debut kid

Gets a yellow card

For an eager tackle

Too late by a yard

And at the end

Time’s added on

But by then

Half of them

Have gone

Some ecstatic

Some bereft

The winning goal

Was outright theft

They rant and rave

And say ‘no more’

But come next week

Into grounds they pour

With hopes renewed

And faith restored.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

August 17, 2012

 

 

 

In the ‘real’ world, there is you.

A ‘constant’ in my life to come home to.

A goddess of reliability,

an anchor when I float.

And when, out of line I step –

Two hands around my throat.

 

 

 

 

 

He’s gone down to his allotment.

He say’s he’s got a prize ‘marra’,

that’s far too big to carry,

so he’s got to wheel it in his ‘barra’.

 

 

August 14, 2012

 

 

They always called it the ‘Doo-Fries-Dooby’ –

a word from childhood that’s stayed in her mind.

It used to live under the bed,

until they moved house and left it behind.

 

 

 

 

Ee, you’re a numbskull,

you’ve forgotten to bring the bread.

What good’s  just ham and butter?

Have you got sawdust in your head?

 

 

August 12, 2012

 

 

I  was living my life through her music,

as I watched each of her lovers

come and go with a song.

Some, I hoped wouldn’t linger,

whilst others, I felt did belong.

But the music that came from her bedroom,

broke my heart in many a way,

as I knew that the time was nearing

when her room, in silence, would lay.

 

 

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