Justice Milord

Justice Fingers sits in court

Considering his thumbs

Precedents and obstacles

In many cases overcomes

Pointing out each point of law

Weak objections overruled

Instruction handed to the Jury

He fans the flames already fuelled

Absent digits do have downsides

In summarizing pulled out plums

For those who point just fingers
Are judged bereft of any thumbs

Oh! Nigh On Cooked My Banshee

They say beauty is only skin deep. Better believe it.
Thanks to Roger Bishop for the picture.

I am a demon in the kitchen

A wizard making spells

Convert ingredients into potions

Pungent magic charming smells

Naughty nice enticement spice

Seductive succour will transfix

Magic circle made of onion rings

My impish felon in the mix

In my hubble-bubble toiling crock

A boiling broth of fiendish stew

Audacious alliaceous cures

My devil’s punchbowl wicked brew

The Song Writer

She sat quietly table drumming

Trying to figure out some tune

Something catchy like contagious

A kind of blown up heart balloon

When life takes hold it grows so fast

Then spirals dizzy reeling by

Can take away your breathing space

Crashing burning off your high

She hopes to slow the music down

Whilst reminiscing with a drink

When before you know the bottle’s low

Imagination on the brink

Seeing symbols as the sunlight breaks

 Writing anything that moves

A page a verse or tempting line

Cloudy visions in the groove

Teardrops rock her rolling eyes

Refreshing all she might have said

Too much hid between the lines

Send other messages instead

Needs and Must Haves

A perfect gift for Billy at three

We are so excited for him

Full of gizmo whistles and gadgetry

Will play for hours to suit his whim

The family came united

On his birthday party date

To witness Billy’s sheer delight

And watch him tackling the crate

Unwrapping the contraption

An atmosphere filled static cracking

As Billy disregarded it

Consumed by passion for the packing

All About The Base Rate

Metro Story Link -Shop assistants and lawyers are Britain’s unhappiest workers

 

I can't get no satisfaction

Of the multitude of jobs we do

We undertake to earn our keep

The side by side dissatisfied

In payment terms we seething weep

Our recompense inadequate

In judgement guilty at the bar

Not enough to drown our sorrows in

Too low we plead by far

Stating cases for a verdict fair

Are lawyers and shopkeepers

Underpaid and wage dismayed

Bring on the harshest jeepers creepers

Day in day out monotony

Is proof enough to state our case

Lacking vibrancy or joie de vivre

Too poorly paid to bring us grace