January 2, 2013

 

 

Pitiful Percoughalees decided

to cool things down, and give

Mendotta some space.

His reason being, that Mendotta

might miss him, and he’d then

be back in the race.

 

He also needed time to upstage

Unkonkey – an arrogant Admiral

indeed – who Percoughalees thought

behind his uniform, was probably a

beach bum on speed!

 

 

 

 

There was an undercurrent

that needed raising, before

the Sultana went out of her

mind.

All the dried fruit stored in the

cupboard, had disappeared

along with the sugar, which

of course, was refined.

She could hardly berate the

kind servants, as she knew the

Sultan with his sweet tooth,

would prove to be the culprit,

though he’d swear blind he

was telling the truth.

 

 

 

December 31, 2012

 

 

The torturous agony

of the uncemented wall,

that at any second,

in clouds of dust,

could fall.

 

 

 

 

 

Percoughalees had a rival,

he was an Admiral of the Fleet,

who Mendotta met in MacQuarie Street,

when she collapsed in the Sydney heat.

 

Admiral Unkonkey came to her rescue,

scooping her up in his powerful arms.

And when Mendotta opened her eyes,

she fell for his Manley charms.

 

 

 

 

There’s a ghost in the bedroom,

who moves about at half past seven.

He’s even been known to creep around,

as late as ten to eleven.

 

The reason I say ‘he’, is because

my man insists on calling him Fred.

But I am more inclined to think,

the ghost a ‘she’ instead.

 

The footsteps often vary as

he goes on different walks,

sending shivers down our spine,

and eyes wide open, out on stalks.

 

We think the ghost quite harmless,

and feel protected by it’s care,

But in truth, I think we both feel,

that we wish,  it wasn’t there!

 

 

 

December 29, 2012

 

 

There’s no disputing that on the mat

it was proudly placed, and the motive

for it being there was undoubtedly

‘total love’, and I could have dealt with

the fact that it was not long dead –

if only my cat hadn’t eaten it’s head!

 

 

 

 

 

Forlorn and freezing their hoofs off,

the sheep remain outside in bleak,

treacherous weather.

With no choice of shelter or comfort,

the poor darlings stand there chewing

the snow covered heather.

 

 

 

 

 

No means no, not yes or maybe.

No, asks no challenges to be heard.

No, means more than, not at that moment.

No, begs the final word.

 

 

 

 

 

She heard his voice,

and knew within seconds,

they would be face to face.

 

She looked into his eyes, and

watched time melt away, as

she relived her fall from grace.

 

 

 

 

One of them loved the other one more.

The other hung in there, knowing the score.

 

 

« Older Posts — Newer Posts »