July 16, 2015

 

Chips for supper.

Chips for Tea.

Bread and butter

and chips for me

 

Chips for breakfast.

Chips for lunch.

Forget bananas

even by the bunch.

 

Chips at snack-time.

Chips for Lent.

Chips at Easter,

I won’t relent.

 

Chips in Summer.

Chips in Spring.

I just love chips

more than anything.

 

Chips from the McDonalds

Chips at home.

Chips by the mirror

as my hair I comb.

 

Chips in the hallway.

Chips on the loo.

I’m so full of chips

I don’t know what to do.

 

Chips and more chips

and more chips still.

Forget rabbit food,

it just makes me ill

 

Chips tomorrow.

Chips next week.

Chips by the mouthful

until I can’t speak

                                                   

Chips in my tummy,

chips on my mind.

Chips by the plateful,

all the chips I can find.

 

Chips forever,

til the end of time.

I just think chips

are so sublime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By Harriet Blackbury.

 

July 15, 2015

 

 

‘Days of Wine & Roses’

done the Henry Mancini way,

accompanied a ‘Summer breeze’,

sung by the Isley Brothers today.

 

Earth, wind and fire, so vital,

as are, The Foundations, here.

Their, ‘Build me up buttercup’ hit,

always worthy of a ‘feel-good’ cheer.

 

And in his inimitable sing-along mode,

Max gave us Tulips from Amsterdam,

and much later, not to be outdone,

‘English Rose’ was sung by The Jam.

 

One of the joys early summer brings,

is this most classic and beautiful sight,

as one recalls Eddie Calvert playing,

‘Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White’.

 

So stunning when in full bloom, we have

‘Sugar Magnolia’ from the Grateful Dead.

Though short lived is this awesome sight,

and collecting petals is something we dread.

 

In vineyards throughout the world,

grapes grow sweetly upon the vine,

reminding us of Elkie Brookes,

and her vintage hit  ‘Lilac Wine’.

 

Scott Mackenzie gave us instructions

about wearing flowers in our hair,

if we were going to San Francisco;

but if we remember it, we weren’t there?

 

Edelweiss from The Sound of Music:

A timeless hit, and will be until…. 

Sung in his laid back fashion:

This last verse goes to, Mr Vince Hill.

 

Written By Harriet Blackbury

for LDOK.net   Tonys Time Machine

 

 

 

July 5, 2015

 

 

You ask of me,

my secret aim?

You think I toy

with life’s sweet game?

 

You ask of me,

the past to reclaim,

as if walking, easy,

over hot coals aflame.

 

You ask of me,

reveal your shame;

revisit abandoned canyons

where no joy came?

 

You ask of me,

my claim to fame?

as if to counterbalance,

some ancient blame.

 

You ask of me,

what in god’s name,

happened to make you so

metaphorically lame?

 

You ask of me,

but my only claim,

is that, in there, somewhere,

I’m still the same!

 

You ask of me,

but this the answer true;

that you know me,

as well as I know you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and light that begged

a second glance,

touched the receptors

in my brain,

 

and for a moment

all life stopped,

as sense of now

I did retain.

 

 

New light then beckoned

me come see,

the lost opportunity

as hands unclasp,

 

when dark clouds

overhead dispersed;

the answer now

within my grasp.

 

 

Dear light that said

‘this your last chance;

leave your old world

where wild nymphs dance.

 

and see the future

through clear eyes;

abandon dreams

  that mesmerize’.   

 

 

 

 

Oh heat of the day

that calls to me,

to stay indoors

and let sense run free.

 

Oh heat of the day

that saps my strength;

A walk, but a dawdle;

a run, not at any length.

 

 

Oh heat of the day,

when pavements cracking.

The sea not for swimming,

now there’s talk of fracking!

 

Oh heat of the day;

you complex tool.

I’m begging for storm clouds,

just to stay cool.

 

 

Oh heat of the day

if I knew your plan,

preparation I’d make;

your mind I would scan.

 

Oh heat of the day,

no compassion you show.

My system water-logged;

my energy low.

 

 

Oh heat of the day,

I longed for last Fall,

when snow, inches thick,

with high drifts, I recall.

 

Oh heat of the day;

inside I’m now dwelling,

with fans working overtime,

and both ankles swelling.

 

 

Oh heat of the day,

go back, from where you came,

before my last breathe is gone;

I’m so sorry, it’s a shame.

 

Oh heat of the day,

I thought you and I,

could sit side by side,

but I was wrong, so goodbye.

 

 

Oh heat of the day,

a cold shower I’m taking.

You’ve outstayed your welcome;

my body’s half baking.

 

Oh heat of the day,

come back sometime soon,

but do me a favour,

and clear-off by noon.

 

 

June 25, 2015

 

 

Sandwiches with

more bread than filling.

 

Mouth wide open

whilst the dentist drilling.

 

The sight of a spider;

the shock quite chilling.

 

My bank account debited

with someone else’s billing.

 

The jungle law;

animals, each other, killing.

 

An half hearted job,

that is never fulfilling.

 

An unlistening ear,

when facts I’m instilling.

 

Being seen as the culprit;

having to face a grilling.

 

A missed opportunity,

that would have been thrilling.

 

 

June 23, 2015

 

 

Tony’s Time Machine

Every Wednesday

11.00 to 1.00pm

with repeats all week.

On 24th June

Tony’s guest will be

Folk Singer Gerry

and Tony will be

reading

Harriet’s poem

‘Football Folk’

 

 

 

 

 

And music to

the rescue came,

to form a meaning

to life’s crazy game.

 

And music to

the rescue came,

when in isolation,

needing to proclaim.

 

And music to

the rescue came,

in the shape of rap;

no song the same.

 

And music to

the rescue came:

A survival kit,

and support frame.

 

And music to

the rescue came,

in the name of hope,

in this game of blame.

 

 

June 16, 2015

 

 

Tonys Time Machine

Every Wednesday

11.00 am – 1.00pm.

Alison and Caroline

will be reading

For The Love Of Manchester

on 17th June.

‘For The Love Of Manchester’

can also be heard on the

‘Forever Manchester Show’ at 2pm

– both shows repeated throughout

the week at the usual times.

 

 

June 7, 2015

 

 

Thirty years and nothing,

No contact, no hearsay.

The thought of re-uniting,

has my mind in disarray.

 

To meet up at the cricket ground,

was a brainwave, I have to say,

If he’s looking rather dodgy,

I can just go on my way.

 

He got me into music,

back then, in the day,

I’ll offer to buy him a beer;

I can’t see him saying ‘nay’!

 

Can he have changed ‘that’ much?

Until we meet, I just won’t know,

But we both still like cricket,

so it’s now on with the show.

 

And if he does my head in,

after the first nervous hour,

I can pray for divine intervention:

‘Please god, let there be a shower’.

 

And if it turns out well,

a second meeting there could be.

But one step at a time,

right now, will do for me.

 

Later that same day

 

The day went very well;

rain didn’t stop play.

Old memories flooded back;

we sure found plenty to say.

 

 

We spoke of happy times,

when we’d met at grammar school,

after he’d fallen off Mount Snowden:

– What a silly fool!

 

And how he wrapped his Mum’s car,

around a telegraph pole,

at Bowland’s ‘cow arc’ bend,

with me, in the passenger role!

 

And how he got me into music;

mostly rock and folk.

And introduced me to good ale;

he sure was my kinda bloke.

 

So yes, at the close of play,

we both were back on song,

a bit older and much wiser,

but we so, still got along.

 

And as Lanky, Lanky, Lancashire,

in our ears did ring out,

we turned to each other knowing,

our friendship, solid, without doubt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Written for LDOK.net  

( Tonys Time Machine)

To hear the concluding part

to Harriet’s poem,

tune in on Wednesday

11am – 1pm

 

 

 

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