August 15, 2012

 

 

Betwixt and between,

I’m stuck in the middle.

Both options looking

perfectly sound.

 

Beneath and above,

are hard rocks to choose.

Both adamant and

standing their ground.

 

 

 

 

He passed mustard down the line

to the bottom of the table.

He peppered his conversation with

porkie pies, whenever he was able.

He over-egged the cheese soufflé,

saying, it came from Austria by cable!

He assaulted his guest’s ears

with tales more like a fable.

Then with condiments back in place,

he bolted to the stable,

taking ‘leftovers’ in a feedbag

to his mother’s cousin ‘Sable’.

 

 

 

 

 

She had a catgut feeling

that he was onto a racket.

He’d been having a ball

outside of the line.

He swore it wasn’t love,

and begged the advantage.

But when she discovered

what the duce he’d been up to,

it was ‘game over’ and

the net result was ‘love all.’

 

 

 

 

 

The judge knew it

The barrister knew it.

The solicitor knew it too.

They had lost on a technicality,

and justice, out of the window, blew.

 

 

 

 

At the core of all this madness,

there is you.

My saviour and protagonist,

my lover and my rock.

The one who shares my burden,

and helps me to take stock.

 

At the centre of my world,

there you are.

Ever present, ever stable,

and there to take the flack.

The one who’s at the front line,

to guard me from attack.

 

 

 

 

‘You’ll feel better in a while’,

they said, after he died.

But I had to grieve my own way,

and still felt him by my side.

 

‘You’ll come to terms with you loss’,

they said, as time went on.

But no different did I feel,

than when the day he’d gone.

 

‘You’ll get used to life alone’

they said, as months went by.

But with my heart broken in two,

I bade my last goodbye.

 

 

 

August 14, 2012

 

 

They always called it the ‘Doo-Fries-Dooby’ –

a word from childhood that’s stayed in her mind.

It used to live under the bed,

until they moved house and left it behind.

 

 

 

 

Forward thinking, projected planning.

Spread sheets full of hope.

Whizz kids tell us a storm is coming.

In a ‘meltdown’ will we cope?

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s stop this dilly-dallying,

and beating about the bush.

Let’s cut to the chase and do it,

whilst we feel the urgency and the rush.

 

 

 

 

Ee, you’re a numbskull,

you’ve forgotten to bring the bread.

What good’s  just ham and butter?

Have you got sawdust in your head?

 

 

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