Rendezvous

Poetry

The on line post it notes

Continued to drop in my in box

Reminiscences from a female acquaintance

I knew since I was small.

Meet you by the market

Where the gluhwein flows

And the big tree is lit up by the national grid

So, off to town goes Charlie Brown

To meet his gorgeous tinker-belle

Wrapped up like a bug

All nice and snug

Where under the lights

Of Christmas bright, we walk round the stalls

Decorating the halls

And after a repast and a drink

A kiss in the square where

We met up, there.

Seashell

Poetry

It’s been on quite an adventure 

This thing from the sea,

Travelling over foam and wave

To land on dry land

Then placed in a bright bucket

It was used as decoration for a castle

Before being saved from the eventide

Spent time in a rucksack

Wrapped up tight in a tissue

Till arriving in a new home

Memories of sunny days

Recalled in a seashell

Now residing in a jar

With others of its kind

Auditors

Poetry, Time

Thieves of time,

Subtle in their art

As a penny passed tween one weight and another

Carefully counterbalanced

So the cogs of the clock turned round

Just so

Cogs kept moving

The giant hour hand

As minutes passed on by

Whilst the second hand, cried

People stared at their time pieces

Trying to get it back

But the clocks in the town hall square

All wailed out of time

Listen up people…in orchestral chimes

The auditors have been in….and committed a crime…

Wabbit

Poetry

#promptuarium #rabbit

At the bottom of the field , there’s a rabbit

Who’s height nearly blocks out the sun

His shadow covers most of the vegetable patch

And to the farmer that isn’t much fun

But he’s tricky this tall furry rabbit

Can’t be shot at and turned into chops

For as soon as the workers can see him

Down a big hole he just pops

And chasing him round fields are a no no

As between them there’s nowt but a mess

More than crop circles created

The locals are somewhat impressed

So instead, hes hived off some patches

For this rabbit to do what he please

In the hope he keeps off the carrots

And dines out on lettuce and peas

Teardrops

Poetry, Weather

The thought of it just being the

Evolution of evaporation

and condensation, doesn’t

ring true with me. Up there with the

Deity, helping create the mountains and

Rivers, the angels have heard their boss

On occasion when he’s hit his thumb with a hammer

Precipitation? Maybe if you are solely a geographer

Something tells me it’s the angels crying!

Girl In The Tinted Glasses

Poetry

Salford 11th December 2018

I don’t know what it is with you.

You’re there at the same time, same day

Same Reaction to my appearance on the opposite platform

Gawping like a primary school kid

I’m not an alien – and i’m past caring

what old style clothing you think i’m wearing

attitude of a kid of an age

who isn’t even working for minimum wage

To try and catch my attention,

You flounce and pout

And if stood with your pals

You scream and shout

 

Maybe you think i’m “The One” for you

Oh if only – that were true

Giggling with your pals – shows you ain’t older

even if your attitude seems any bolder

Perhaps, you think the camera footage

will catch the eye

of an X-Factor Judge at Mediacity

but all your peacocking gets from me – is pity.

Winters breakfast

Poetry

Tuesday 11th December 2018

There are times of the year when I have an affinity with that bear of very little brain …. Winnie the Pooh.

The mercury in the kitchen thermometer hasn’t risen in the house,  and there’s a definite nip in the air. And so rather than retreat to the warmth of my duvet, I’ve decided to enjoy a bowl of porridge .

something sweet for breakfast