Shopping expedition

There’s nothing in the cupboard, all is gone,
So to the store my wife and I must go.
It’s not exactly my idea of fun,
Or jollity, or pleasure you should know.
Still it’s essential to acquire such things
As margarine and butter, coffee, tea,
And eggs and sugar, and she homewards brings
A bottle or two of wine – but not for me.
We each have our idea of what’s essential,
The things we need to make life jog along.
Some of her needs I find inconsequential,
But I suspect she thinks I’ve got it wrong!
My name’s Jack Sprat you see, and as Jack’s wife,
She much prefers the fattening things in life

Sweeney's friend

‘Twas in the bar that I met Sweeney’s friend,
We’d had a few, of that I am quite sure.
We had discussed the merits of a blend
That none of us had tasted there before.
It was a whiskey of a powerful mien,
Quite mellow in the look, but not the taste.
We downed a glass or two and in between
Made sure the beer did never go to waste.
By ten upon the clock we all were drunk,
But quietly, as gentlemen should be;
Old Sweeney to the floor had slowly sunk –
When suddenly by his side it seemed to me
I saw a little man dressed all in green,
Who said straight out, “Y’re stewed, me auld spalpeen!”

Trip the light fantastic!

Dear P.,

You held me in your arms, we danced all night
To music with an ever rising beat,
But though you told me that my steps were light,
Your heavy tread has damaged my poor feet!
You told me that you’d now learnt how to dance;
At last, you said, you really did know how
To waltz’ you proudly emphasised that now
You quick-stepped, rhumba’d – just give you the chance.
I took you at your words – but they were lies –
My feet have told me so, not only once
But several times. You really cannot dance
With me again. I hope you realise
That both my feet are now in plaster cast.
The doctor took one look and was aghast!


Yours, M.

Hannah and I and Green Eggs and Ham

Hannah and I read together a book
(At least Hannah read and I had a look).
The book was about some green eggs and ham;
I've never seen green ones as old as I am!
Green eggs and ham!   Now whoever heard
Of such a strange dish; it seems quite absurd.
I'm sure that like me you'd consider it strange
To find green eggs frying on your kitchen range.
I think if we found them we'd soon throw them out -
But that's not at all what this book was about!
And as for the ham - well - I really must say
That when I see some it will be a strange day.
Green eggs and ham!   Yet we found in this book
That at last he's persuaded to take one more look.
A look, then a taste, then a voice filled with glee,
"I do like to eat these strange things for my tea."
Green eggs and ham!   I'd soon throw them out,
And Nana would too, I don't have a doubt.
Your Mummy and Daddy would also agree
We shouldn't have green eggs and ham for our tea.
So maybe that story was not quite so true
As Sam-I-am tried to tell me and tell you.
We'll stick with our spinach and brocolli too,
Now they're green enough for both me and you.
Our eggs will be yellow, our ham remain pink;
That's alright for me.   Now.   What do you think?


(With apologies to Dr. Seuss)

The Pig

They say that the pig got so very big

Because he was bred to be so;

And he wallows in mud and burrows in dirt

Because it was meant to be so.

But whether the things that they say of the pig

Are true, I do not really know,

For a pig is a pig, very pink, round and big

And I know that is all that I know!

A rat and a cat and Eve

Into the room came a big fat cat
And it looked around and it saw a rat!
The rat the cat saw sat on a mat
Wrinkling its nose like any old rat.
The cat growled softly on seeing the rat:
"I'll shift you, rat, from off that mat!"
It scurried and pounced but the wary rat
Had fled, vacating the worn old mat.
It dashed and hid 'neath an old felt hat -
Just fancy that - a rat under my hat!
And the cat looked round and saw no rat,
So it sauntered out saying, "There, that's that!"
But as soon as she'd gone, the cunning old rat
Looked out from the hat and seeing no cat
Scurried right back to sit on that mat.

Eve told me this story - I remember the time -
And somehow it all began to rhyme.
So we wrote it down to see how it looks,
For this isn't a poem you'll find in books.
We both agree that it looks alright
So we'll stop right here and say, "Good night!"

Christmas is coming

Christmas is coming,
The goose is getting thinner;
There'll never be enough of it
To feed us all at dinner.
The trouble is the feed's all gone,
The whole darned stock is done.
So what to do?   What will we eat?
Just what will be our Christmas treat?
The fish and chip shop's closed as well
On Christmas day as I've heard tell.
The stores don't open either, so
Somewhere else we'll have to go.
The cupboard's filled with many a tin
So there's no fear we'll be without;
And yet it really is a sin
We can't have goose with spud and sprout;
Followed by Christmas pud and cake
And wine enough to make a lake.
Ne'er mind for here's a tin of beans
It should go well with cabbage greens;
And here I've found a tin of rice
For pudding - that should be quite nice!
I promise you we'll have good cheer -
So merry Christmas and a good New Year!

Where have all the verses gone?

I use to write poetry, struggled to write

Of the things that affected my soul;

Of the things that in life had the greatest impact -

Now my muse has been placed on parole!

I used to write verses of all different types,

Some in fun, some dramatic, some sad;

Now I've lost inspiration, I've nothing to say -

Have I gone from the verse to the bad?

(Bum, bum..!)

Wallpaper

I see thee from the corner of my eye

Standing stiff and proud; and now enrolled

Thou threateneth me.   I understand not why.

I know that soon thy challenge will unfold

Though I give thee a pasting.   I’m not skilled,

And thou may paste me more ere all’s fulfilled.

I’ll take thy measure and I’ll cut thy face

Before I stretch thee out and slip and slap;

But as I pick thee up I’ll feel th’embrace

Of all thy limbs and thou wilt stick me back!

Because of this I’ll warrant thou’lt be hung

For all to see; for that’s where thou belong.