Friday, 27 May 2011

Joyce Birch & The 1st of April Blues

Oh dear oh dear its time again 
to turn the annual page
Though some of us bemoan the tides
relentlessly we age
On days like this it should be bliss
a time to celebrate
Not hoping that no one will ask
 ‘How many passed to date?’
If ageing isn’t bad enough
the timing’s been a bind
Disparaging slights defamatory taunts
a birth-date so unkind
Of all the days throughout the year
 the trendy neat and cool
Dear Joyce the last of mothers nine
has to suffer 'April Fool'
She is no clot nor dunderhead
ninny goose or moron
No crackpot goof or nincompoop
no one to walk the floor on
Numskull dunce duffer dolt
Joyce Birch defies the rule
Her time salutes the summer’s day
she is no ‘April Mule’

Thursday, 26 May 2011

Borrowed Time

A ticking clock defiantly
Holds tight the reins of time
Shares it briefly as you look
Reminds you that it’s prime

But all in all this master piece
Of moments passed sublime
Will trick you into thinking
There’s always much more time.

A clock face smile is short and sweet
With its ever changing dial
Moving on incessantly
You may loan some time awhile

Monday, 16 May 2011

(Rock of Ages)

Written specially for this eccentric but funny salesman Geoffrey Rock

At Bonus Willerby Electrical Store,

in the section known as trade

Where deals are done at lightning rate 

with loads of money made

For many a year all sorts have come 

not sure of what they want

from the master mind purveyor 

of know-all parts list font

Such legendary patter, 

takes the novice mind off price

removing all suspicious thoughts

smoothly mumbling “Ever so Nice”

“Now let’s see what this lot costs

we wont be charging that!”

or “ No, no, no that’s far too low

we need a little fat.”

“There you are, my very best,

forty quid that’s nice”

Count your fingers check your bill

He’s charged you twice the price.

Week in week out he’s been there

with tongue-in-cheeky mock

the ‘absolute top of the wholesale shop

they’ll miss old Geoffrey Rock

The Purchase

I bought this thing the other day
though now I wonder why
I felt it had panache and verve
so pleasing to the eye

Yet now alas I cannot see
quite why it had allure
it matches nothing in my home
so lacking de rigueur

Monday, 9 May 2011

The Table

The table waits to be defined
employed in many ways
to eat to write or just sit tight
play games on rainy days

For gatherings of families
or terse negotiation
so important is a table
for the sake of declaration

The Chair

To sit upon or set upon
will first require a chair
To sink within or think without
it’s not important where

To use it as a reference
or salute in noble deference
irrespective of your preference
One will always need a chair

Friday, 6 May 2011

Where On Earth?

I put it there I know I did
I’m sure I wasn’t dreaming
it really is frustrating
it makes me feel like screaming

I don’t believe it could have moved
to somewhere on its own
it’s just a piece of manmade stuff
unconsciously alone

Where has it gone where is it now
I’m starting to despair
I’ve looked in every place but one
it’s there I know but where?

Years ago I was searching the house for my mobile phone. Muttering and cussing to myself I looked in every room, on every shelf and every drawer. As I got to the kitchen my mother-in-lawJoan (MIL)  asked "what are you looking for Cliff?" "My  mobile phone MIL" I replied.  She stared at me with an expression of utter disbelief and said "You're carrying it in you left hand Cliff!".

After reading this to a group recently I was asked did I know 'Old John Meddlesome'

Old John Muddlecombe
Lost his cap,
He couldn't find it anywhere,
The poor chap.
He walked down the High Street,
And everybody said,
"Silly John Muddlecombe,
You've got it on your head!".

19th Century author unknown

Thursday, 5 May 2011

The Away Day Ode

The time has come for she who worked

so many years and never shirked

To put away her pad and pen

and never tread that mill again

No more the drudge of turning up

the dreary workplace coffee cup

Office bods thrown in together

with little more than how’s the weather

Oh farewell those remaining there

with burdens she’ll no longer share

With bright delight she looks anew

A life of multicoloured view

Nirvana journey’s road not long

Sing out loud to Annie’s song