Word-Twicester

Tommy Licester went to Bicester
To see Sally, his little sicester
But on her door was a note
That Sally had wrote-
It seemed that Tommy had just micester

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Slim Slam Snigger Snogger

Nif naf noo

Ack gack piddle poddle

Bink Pleen Grue

======

this here’s an pome,

o can’t you see,

an pome wot woz

writ by me.            

it should’ve been

an flowerpot,

but that is clearly

wot it’s not.

my spelling tests

I didn’t pass ---

I thought the sign said

‘pottery class’

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‘Ribbit!’ said Tiddles
As he sat in the grass
At the bottom of the yard
Not looking like a cat at all.

For one thing, he was green
Whereas this morning he’d been
Tabby and warm and furry and purry
With ‘Miaow!’ his favourite word

‘Here, puss, puss!’ I cried
‘Ribbit!’ he replied, as he spotted
A spider, caught it with his tongue
And swallowed it in one gulp

‘H...

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'The Lady of the House
Wia,
Whom he loves'

within these ruined walls
you lived
loved
played
laughed
cried
worked

- died

long gone now
only dust remains
yet carved painted stones
bring testimony
of your life
and warmth
down through the years
and suddenly
you are almost
close enough to touch

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You beat your Pate, and fancy Wit will come:
Knock as you please, there's nobody at home.
(Alexander Pope)

Writer's Block

I've got writer's block
I think that's what it is
My brain's gone in shock
Lost all its poetic fizz

I can't put down first
a line to hang the rest on
I'm starting to feel cursed -
Where's me inspiration gone?

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My daughter used to worry her Dad
It was all about a fear she had
Each night she'd call me up the stair
To exorcise ghosts that were not there

So we had a long chat about ghoulies and stuff
And finally I thought I'd done enough
They don't exist, we'd at last agreed
and for Dad's rescues there was no more need

But then one night, while I was pottering around
a familiar sh...

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Walked 'round the town where I was born and bred

Places changed, friends gone, some dead,

Fading ghosts of streets that were home to me

Where I'd played as a child, young and fancy-free

The glow of the smiles that used to be

On the faces of friends I knew.

Wraiths of ships built on the river there

Faint echoes of their horns on the misty air

Phant...

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Simple soul
with simple faith
betrayed all your life
by fat priest
and crooked politician

a life of poor honest toil
and dedication
for nothing but
the love of friends and kin
and a simple grave.

After all these years
I remember your smile
and hope,
against hope,
you got your just reward

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Is sunrise as beautiful if none sees

or birdsong so sweet without human ear?

Is a flower's perfume on an evening breeze

as fragrant if there is no person near?

Was all this created for us  alone

or is there purpose still yet to be seen?

Though Man is mortal, and will soon be gone

Suns shall yet rise daily where we have been

and flowers will appear with heady bouq...

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I close my eyes

and as I doze

years melt away

I see as clear

as that distant day

the railway station

steam trains abound

promise of travel

to distant towns

the sight and sound

of the mighty engines

as they rhythmically

hiss, chuff, whistle

and clank their way

on the bright iron rails

midst billowing clouds

starting, ending,

con...

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I once had a cat, but she's gorn, and that's that: no more she'll come running to me, (boo-hoo) 'though I cry ' Alack! ' and ' Oi, Selkit, come back! ' - 'cos she's dead as a doornail, you see.

(oh poo)

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This morning, God finally

Put on his hat, and said

'Right - that's it.

If you don't believe in me,

then I don't believe in you

either.

So there.

- and don’t go asking me

for any more favours!'

Bang went the door

and I heard Marlene's dog 

bark as he passed the gate

It's all gone quiet

But I'm worried now that

he's not really gone

...

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this dot
thinks
it's thinking
maybe
there's a meaning
and a purpose
in the Universe
we can comprehend

A reason
why it or we
should even be
other than simply
because
the alternative is
not to be

as a better dot
once put it

or maybe
there's not

even
a
dot

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the size

of a molecule of water

is smaller than it oughta

be,

‘cos if it were bigger,

then I figger

my feet would stay drier,

see?

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egg

 o egg

           what is

            you am?

             all white

   and yellow

           --- like a

          banana --

        or a egg,

       come to

     think

    of

                                  it.

 

(From my Fruity period -- sorry, I'm in daft mode for my grandson....)

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Close the coalhouse door, lad

There's bones inside

(Alex Glasgow)

 

Fruits of the Narrow Seam

frozen tears

on a mossy stone

beneath a sundial

which has swept out

one hundred and thirty seven

years' worth of days

since they were

carved

at Christmastide

When time stopped

and a mother wept

while in ignorance and vel...

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