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August 31, 2016

 

 

 

More sorrow than there’d ever been,

losing one who loved a Gypsy Cream,

or Jammie Dodger if all else failed –

when the tin empty, how she wailed.

 

Such agony from a grumbling gut –

Oh how she loved a Ginger Nut,

or a Fig Roll, or perhaps Rich Tea.

A crumb of comfort all, that’s left of she.

 

 

 

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June 8, 2016

 

 

As easy as that, they robbed him;

just took him for all he was worth.

Two urchin girls with the giggles,

destined to be thieves from birth.

 

A willing recipient he was,

flinging his arms in the air.

Flattered by so much attention,

as he strode through St Marks Square.

 

The rascals ran off – job accomplished;

an easy start to their day.

Cash expertly extracted,

before the wallet thrown away.

 

Percoughalees was really frustrated;

his plane due in under an hour.

He knew Mendotta would be onboard;

the chance to see her, now turning sour.

 

 

 

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April 14, 2016

 

 

A hundred versions

of one person,

incredulously,

rolled into one.

 

Some laughable

beyond imagination.

Exaggeration expressed,

to cause sensation,

 

and gather momentum

with each telling,

as if a script

for Aaron Spelling.

 

A hundred versions

of one person,

coming to light

now they are gone.

 

Rumours and lies

and much mischief,

will likely,

always follow grief,

 

and gather moss

where corpse now dwelling.

The truth, the truth,

only Pentothal telling.

 

 

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Four hundred years

since he left this earth.

Yet this gift so tacky,

and of little worth.

 

And not in keeping

with what he was about.

Purists of his word,

now scream and shout.

 

Leaving little doubt

how they do feel,

at the thought of his skyline,

with a Ferris wheel.

 

 

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March 29, 2016

 

 

Such a surge of joy

when going places.

Fingers fighting

to tie shoe laces.

 

Such a sigh of relief

when homeward bound.

Now shoes kicked off

and slippers found.

 

 

 

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March 27, 2016

 

 

How alarming to see the seam

of a lampshade burning bright.

Oh, the urge to turn it around,

until the seam out of sight.

 

How ridiculous to pick up litter

whilst walking along the street.

When behind you a million items

discarded at people’s feet. 

 

How unsettling to see out of place,

that which should be stood in line.

How damned annoying to feel so critical,

when OCD enters your world and mine.

 

 

 

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December 26, 2015

 

 

My luck’s in today,

a dandelion said ‘Hi’.

The first of the Spring, or maybe,

the last of the Summer to die?

 

 

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May 7, 2015

 

 

And of the ones he

thought who might,

he found Delphinia

a total delight!

 

She tapped into,

his inner senses.

They experimented with

unknown consequences.

 

And of the ones he

thought who might,

his gut feeling was

to prove him right.

 

By dawn Delphinia

was on her way.

No questions asked

at close of play.

 

But how small the world

with the travelling elite;

she found Mendotta to be sat

in the very next seat.

 

(They had once attended

the same ‘Finishing School’,

in Switzerland,

where the air is cool.)

 

And she passed on to Mendotta,

the number of a guy,

who she nicknamed ‘Perry’,

who she suggested, she try.

 

Astonished, Mendotta

accepted with grace;

at the same time feeling

a flush to her face!

 

Later, the ladies ‘air kissed’

and went separate ways.

How temptation, tantalisingly,

with the mind, stays!

 

 

 

 

 

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May 2, 2015

 

 

It’s a brave man now

who will sell hot spuds,

at two in the morning,

if he values his goods.

 

 

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January 4, 2015

 

 

They ask ‘Who is he;

give me some common ground,

so a realistic conversation,

I can then turn around’.

 

They say ‘Give me some detail,

about what makes him tick,

so words can be exchanged,

without me looking quite thick’.

 

They ask ‘Does he like dogs,

or is he a cat man’?

‘Fill me in on his background

as soon as you can’.

 

They beg ‘Let me see his resume;

his imagination to catch’?

But he’ll know in a second,

the plan that you hatch!

 

I say ‘to hell with all that;

take him as he comes,

if you’re ever going to be,

agreeable chums’.

 

See him as a blank canvas;

your own picture create.

If you start off with bullshit,

no progress you’ll make.

 

Don’t you think that he knows,

each irritating sycophant,

and each line of nonsense,

that out of their mouths, pant?

 

If you go down that route,

polite excuses he’ll make,

just to get the hell away,

for his sanity’s sake.

 

Just imagine him naked,

but on second thoughts not,

as a sudden fit of giggles,

would see you a clot.

 

And what if the worst happens

and an opportunity is missed:

Is it such a big deal,

if he doesn’t know you exist?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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