February 19, 2013

 

 

Percoughalees was awakened

by a tapping on the door, and

diving out of bed, skidded, on

a stray sock lying on the floor.

 

In pain, he screeched out loudly, as

his foot twisted, before hitting the wall,

whereupon the chambermaid entered,

then quickly made an emergency call.

 

‘Your ankle, it needs attention’,

she said, with a voice so charmed.

‘The medics will be here presently,

so please don’t be alarmed’.

 

Percoughalees was feeling furious,

more with himself, for oversleeping,

but he knew his foot was broken, and

today’s plans, he wouldn’t be keeping.

 

He felt sure Mendotta, after breakfast,

would have strolled through Central Park,

before checking out of her hotel, even

though her flight was not until after dark.

 

Percoughalees needed to be at the airport

before Mendotta took to the sky, to

be certain she was on board Brubellgot’s

flight, heading towards Uruguay.

 

‘Could this be divine intervention, for

thumping Unkonkey in St Mark’s Square’,

he thought, as he travelled downtown,

in such agony, he felt he might swear. 

 

 

 

 

 

Ditch the pastry,

ditch the crumble,

prevent your tummy

from doing a rumble.

Ditch the digestives,

and chocolate too,

eat plenty of fruit and

you’ll easily pooh.

Try five a day of

veg. red and green, and

become the slimmest

you’ve ever been.

Discover those hip bones

you had when aged twenty,

when size ten was you

and guys queued aplenty.

Into your food cupboards

put only the best, and

soon you’ll look great in

your knickers and vest.

 

 

 

February 17, 2013

 

 

In an effort to leave the past behind,

too forward thinking he started looking.

Hence, missing out on what was in front

of his eyes, that had burnt to a crisp,

through overcooking.

 

 

 

 

When one half of a pair

is in despair,

the other half steps in

to fix the repair.

 

When one half of a pair

is no longer there,

the other half rests easier

in the knowledge they care.

 

 

 

 

The gigolo with the piccolo had all

the ladies dancing to his tune, but

the gigolo with the piccolo, preferred

the dude with the big bassoon.

 

 

 

 

 

From the moment he laid eyes on her

he was entranced;

captivated by her stunning aura.

She, with wonderful copper coloured hair

bound attractively into a loose chignon;

a soft fringe framing her gentle face.

His heart raced.

She was the most elegant lady

he had ever seen,

and he, just a mere boy

of only thirteen.

He took sneaky peeks at her in assembly

as they all stood together in prayer.

She wore the most luscious

mauve coloured, mohair,

cowl necked sweater,

and deep purple pencil style skirt.

Shiny black patent stiletto shoes

completed her look.

He was so much in love

that it hurt.

She was the new geography teacher,

and spoke of Norwegian fiords

and Cornish tin mines

and rock formations

and the equator.

He needed a translator,

for it all went over his head, as

he sat transfixed by her beauty,

traumatised by her smile,

and lost in a universe of his own.

 

 

 

 

Sunshades are the voyeurs mask,

concealing darting eyes, but there’s

excitement bubbling down below,

that no man can disguise.

 

 

 

 

Oh, the allure that starts the procure

Oh, the amore that follows for sure

Oh, the consistence that’s hard to endure.

Oh, the farewell at the end of the tour.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When the O is on the left,

adrenaline runs through

the veins, but when the O is

on the right, negativity reigns.

 

 

 

February 12, 2013

 

 

How many times can a heart be broken?

How much sorrow can one person feel?

How many loved ones have left us lonely,

nursing wounds that won’t ever heal.

 

How many years have gone by in limbo?

How many times for those days can we crave,

until the day dawns when we suddenly realise,

not quite so often, do we visit their grave?

 

 

 

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