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July 29, 2013
Lost memories of sweet Louise
return to me with the summer breeze.
I see her face, her anxious smile,
as the car drove on, mile after mile.
Each crying branch of trees we passed
all knew the journey would be our last.
Each traffic light that was on red
only added to, the heartfelt dread.
Such memories of sweet Louise
A treasure trove, to me, are these.
Her arrival came, and soon she went
And those few hours were all we spent.
Growing pains
Pudding stains
Country lanes
Weather vanes
Landscaped plains
Bamboo canes
Rotting grains
Stinking drains
Haggled brains
Earthly strains
Human remains
Hardship reigns.
It had to be left in the
place where he put it,
with the label clearly on view
Exactly one inch from
the fungal foot spray,
or the explosion,
in his head, blew.
July 27, 2013
In the street of serendipity
lie discarded apple cores.
Environmentally friendly?
Not according to the roars!
Oh fool when in the
highlight of thy youth,
was reckless and one
has to say – uncouth.
Oh fool when in the
midst of middle age,
by then had loved and
lost, in rampant rage.
Oh fool when in the
twilight of thy life,
realised a dream to take
a virgin wife.
Oh fool who on thy
death bed finally lay,
wouldn’t have ever
changed a single day.
No sense in gain
from illicit deceit.
No fence is worth the sale
of any goods on heat.
No pence, however small,
makes ‘wrong’ complete.
No hence or whence or why
can ever excuse a cheat.
Alas, lass, it came to pass
I said ‘no good could there be’,
when you fled down the path
of no return, in order to marry he.
Barely out of school were you at the
time, with fairy tales in your head,
and not prepared to listen to sense
before you entered his bed.
Alas, lass, it came to pass
No point saying ‘I told you so.
For you went down the path that I took,
so many, many years ago!
July 22, 2013
The ship that sailed on that yon sea
was built for neither you nor me
With waves so high and sharks that peep
no calm was there, just lack of sleep.
The ship that sits near drier land
is now our kingdom to command.
With blue skies high, where salmon leap
and peace of mind is ours to keep.
A planted seed that
never should have been
Now decades on still
remains unseen.
The gift of life –
A random gene
Is now the time to
finally come clean?
Oh rum, that is the sailors tea
that warms his heart
so he merry be.
Oh wench, that is the sailors glee
after long and lonesome
days at sea.