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?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I will blow kisses across the ocean.

Catch them if you can.

Open wide your eyes and see I love you,

and have, since time began.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He fed her boiled tripe butties

she swallowed them too, with ease,

until it dawned upon her,

that she’d really rather have cheese.

 

 

August 12, 2012

 

 

The forgotten Sub sits

sucking his thumb.

Passed over so often,

he has segs on his bum.

 

 

 

 

I  was living my life through her music,

as I watched each of her lovers

come and go with a song.

Some, I hoped wouldn’t linger,

whilst others, I felt did belong.

But the music that came from her bedroom,

broke my heart in many a way,

as I knew that the time was nearing

when her room, in silence, would lay.

 

 

August 11, 2012

 

 

 

Subtlety wasn’t her forte.

Tact was beyond her too.

She just jumped straight in with both feet,

as they squirmed and watched her stew.

 

 

 

 

After forty years and some,

(that’s some with dubious doubt)

I wouldn’t swap you for the world.

I’d just rather do without!

 

 

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