August 11, 2012

 

 

After forty years and some,

(that’s some with dubious doubt)

I wouldn’t swap you for the world.

I’d just rather do without!

 

 

August 9, 2012

 

 

Hoards of people rushing nowhere,

spending dosh they haven’t got

on the latest ‘must have’ gizmo

that they think is hot, hot, hot.

 

Crashing shoulders with each other,

to the Sales, they run amok,

in hope of saving a small fortune

on the latest ‘Westwood’ frock.

 

Heading with the kids towards ‘Hamleys’

to grab games running out of stock,

that will be played just once at Christmas

then on a shelf, stored and forgot.

 

When at last the ‘hit’ is over,

back amongst the crowds they run

to the nearest proverbial coffee bar

for a latte and a bun.

 

Then with parcels at the ready

and feet about to howl,

they rush back along the street

to get home in time for Simon Cowell.

 

 

 

August 7, 2012

 

 

Until this world stops turning

I will go on yearning

to see you again once more.

I need to see how you’ve blossomed

and how you’ve coped alone,

in this jungle of existence,

where we spurn our very own.

 

 

 

July 31, 2012

 

 

I’m bottom of the pile at our house,
way down on the ‘pecking’ list.
When the ‘soaps’ come on, I take the dog out,
and I’m very rarely missed.

I walk in through the door unnoticed
wanting comfort after a hard days grind.
And pass my wife going to her fitness class
saying ‘There’s beans on toast, do you mind?’

The cat is a source of comfort
and seems able to read my mind.
But then I realise he just wants feeding.
Life can be such a bind!

There’s music screaming from three bedrooms,
and I can’t even get into a loo.
So I clear off to the pub once more
Well really, what else can I do?

‘Has your Dad gone out again?’ my wife asks,
when she eventually comes back in.
But her question is never answered.
She can’t be heard over all the din.

So she settles down to watch a late film,
and I return saying ‘I’m off to bed’
I daren’t try to have a conversation
If I disturbed her, she’d take off my head!

 

 

 

 

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’s 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 fortnight’s 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 long summer break.

 

 

 

 

 

Should we have children?

she asked her aunts

as they all sat together one day,

in the house where there’d

been a near tragedy.

One aunt said, ‘Well love,

look at it this way.

‘If you’ve none to make you laugh,

none will make you cry’.

(Both these aunts were childless,

I have to say)

Then the other one said,

‘Ee, I wouldn’t bother,

‘Look at what’s happened here today’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She’s going to ask me

if she looks ok.

How do I know?

Because she’s asked me the

same question every day for

nearly thirty years.

Some days she looks a bugger,

but I keep that thought to myself,

and just say ‘Oh, you look fine dear’.

It’s the safest route to take on this

familiar, tightrope walk.

Some days she’ll test me and say

‘But I thought you didn’t like me in red?

Quick as a flash I reply with,

‘Oh, there’s so many shades of red,

but that one’s alright on you’,

whilst at the same time, I find myself

fighting with my sub-conscious,

and biting my tongue to stop from

blurting out ‘Where’s your bloody reindeer?

My worst dread of all is when she walks

back indoors after having been to the

hairdressers. Sometimes she looks like

she’s not even been there, whilst other

times, on days when she’s ‘felt like a change’,

as she puts it, I’ve had to sneak into my office

to cancel Dinners we were due to attend, as

she’s looked like a prize rooster or a runaway

from a travelling circus. Other times I’ve even

feigned sudden stomach ache, or worse, so as

not to be seen out on the street with her, like

last week when she copied our teenagers and

came home with half of her hair coloured black

and the other half white blonde?

I suffer dreadfully with my nerves and I have

ulcers too, but on the whole we are very happy –

honestly, no I mean it, we’re ok together.

I wouldn’t dare say otherwise!

 

 

 

 

 

Out of the mouths of babes

the truth will often fall.

Their simple, logical approach

in a sentence can say it all.

 

We shake our heads

and smile in wonder.

Their solutions

we can’t cast asunder.

 

To them, it’s as easy as A B C –

It’s just a piece of cake!

So let’s listen to what the children say,

after all – what sense they make!

 

 

 

 

July 27, 2012

 

 

We ear yer goin’ overt’hill,

A wek on Sunday, ay but still.

We ope fer yer sake yer don’t see rain,

and that young Jack, he don’t complain!

Ow did ‘is holiday in Portugal go?

Ow was flyin’ – did he let yer know?

Our sen, we plan to go to 429,

next Sunday cumin, if it’s fine…

We’ll squeeze it in, our diary’s full,

yer know fer uzz life’s owt but dull!

More’s the pity, more’s the pain,

That on the lavvy we both now strain!

We’ve matchin piles, now ain’t that cute!

Well it is til pain gets quite acute!

Ear, I must tell thee before I forgeet,

I’m in a poets society, yeh, that’s reet!

Yer don’t avt’ live int’ neighbourhood,

Yer’ve just got t’send in poems a bit good.

Thi like em best wi’ a Lancashire theme.

Prap’s you being overt’hill is a bit extreme!

Tha could bi sen as t’enemy, tha knows!

Tha might av a bit of a Pennines glow!

Yer cannot foo these Lancashire men,

Yer’d bi sen as t’traitor –  now der yer ken?

Yer might av bin born whert red rose grows,

But tha lives whert white rose surrendered tha knows!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

July 26, 2012

 

 

When told by the doctor

the results of her tests

she stood there defiant

as ever, and simply said

‘Damn it’,  before allowing

one solitary tear to fall upon

her cheek, rendering us all

numb and unable to speak.

 

 

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