January 28, 2013

 

 

Pity me, for I love thee, Berty Bonkers.

Sit with me whilst I stroke thy furrowed brow.

Lie with me and unravel thy complications.

Die with me in a thousand years from now.

 

 

January 21, 2013

 

 

You stood out in a sea of people.

Your face set my senses aglow.

My nerve ends began to tingle.

I knew I wanted you so.

 

Call it instant attraction.

Call it an undiscipled urge.

Whatever it was, you also felt it.

Like a mighty magnetic surge.

 

Then on your way you travelled,

raising your hand to blow a kiss.

I knew I’d never get to see you again,

but you left behind such ongoing bliss.

 

 

 

 

Will you protect me when I’m sleeping?

Will you carry me across the ford?

Will you bring me toast and honey?

Will you tickle me when I’m bored?

 

 

 

 

I dreamt that you were under me,

and we’d just made love so passionately,

then I left the bed to go for a pee,

whilst you got up to make a pot of tea!

 

 

 

 

She often speaks of violets

with their damning perfume,

and bodies from her past,

she hardly dare exhume.

 

She speaks of golden sequins

when she was a chorus girl,

and lovers far and wide,

who sent her in a whirl.

 

She never speaks of heartache,

for that’s hers alone to keep,

but she cries a thousand rivers

for a love, buried so deep.

 

 

January 8, 2013

 

 

A bit of hanky panky,

a touch of oo-la-la.

Just be very careful,

or you’ll finish up a Ma.

 

A hint of what you fancy,

in the back seat of your car.

Be sure to use protection,

or you’ll finish up a Pa.

 

 

 

 

 

I promise I bought you a present,

and also got you a beautiful card.

I neatly parcelled them in brown paper,

but the postage I found very hard.

 

By airmail, would have meant a mortgage,

and surface mail, would have taken weeks.

For the same price I could have got on a plane,

seen you, and kissed both your cheeks.

 

 

January 7, 2013

 

 

When Marvin Gaye, through

the airwaves played,

and in her arms he laid,

proved to be the happiest

days they would recall.

For that song by Billy Paul,

that almost said it all.

Saw the ‘thing’ that was

going on, very soon bounce

off the wall.

 

 

 

 

She over compensated

for his short comings.

She let him off the hook.

One wonders if she really knew,

how, without blindness,

love would look?

 

 

 

January 4, 2013

 

 

Send me one of your worries,

tied up with a scarlet bow.

It’s one less item to take off,

your list of ongoing woe.

 

Send me one of your pipedreams

from deep inside your soul.

I’ll create for it, a life,

and make two halves a whole.

 

 

 

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