Wednesday, 30 September 2015

The morning after

I still feel woozy
Yes I remember drinking
Until late last night

A voice in ymy head
Now mentions a thoughtless swine
The wife’s on the phone

Talking to her friend
But I cleaned up the bathroom
Why is she uptight?

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Where her heart was

Granny May had been in hospital for many weeks. Her recovery was slow from her surgery. They thought they had lost her but she slowly pulled through. Jim her son worried how she would manage after she returned home as she insisted she would return to her cottage on the outskirts of town where she had lived for so many years.  Gramps her long dead husband had lived with her until he died and she said he would expect to find her when he came back to her!

So Jim got his own son Paul and Laura his girlfriend to go round and tidy up the place before she returned as she still had a few weeks rehab. They were lucky it was spring for they soon got stuck into it weeding and pruning and planting seedlings so that she could enjoy the garden as she recuperated. Once it was cleared the annuals showed their faces again and the roses now were bursting into bloom. The bees were buzzing around the fruit trees with so much work to do.

They cleaned up her cottage too but not too much or else Granny would not know where they had put things away. However it was tidy again and everything shone just like the sun and the clock was ticking once more.

Jim brought Granny May home and she sighed with satisfaction that she had finally returned. “Let me put on the kettle” she said “but first I must look at my garden there must be lots to do”.

Tears came to her eyes when she found that so much work had been done and that her grandson Paul was sitting on the garden seat waving to her as she looked over the luxuriant blooms and by his side she could see Laura cuddled up close. 

                                         She smiled her eyes beamed
                                       The garden where her heart was
                                               Greeted her in bloom

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Sunday, 27 September 2015

Don't fence me in

My sweet wife nudged me
After all these years
The city called
No, ordered I move
To the office in town
We had to shift
Or lose my job

Sweet wife had visions
Apartment with views
Balcony for tea
And all shining new
Our new luxury pad
Singing praises
Her poem of joy

I’d been a city child
Raised in a brick flat
My youth’s hell
Communal balcony
Entrance for all
Dirty windows
And constant noise

Escape to the country                    
Dancing at village hall                               
Kids riding horses 
My wife now smiles
This was now our plan
Don't fence me in
With city's railings       

Image found at                 

Spinning ball

Audible sad sighs
Spinning ball chooses its home
On the roulette's wheel

Casino visit
All dressed up for the evening
I am bust I say

Sally stares amazed
She just doesn't believe me
Just kidding I say

You're just not meant to win
You cannot beat the system
We move to the bar

Music is playing
Relaxing background
Cheap drinks, more to bet

This place exists
If it is how you like your kicks
Persuasive venue

Rather be with you
Than make a mess of my life
I think that trumps all

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Saturday, 26 September 2015

By the wayside

Let me walk with you
As we did long years ago
When we were so young

Our legs were strong then
How we would run down the lane
First over the stile

I held your warm hand
In shy anticipation
That you would be mine

O how those years passed
I kissed you and breathed you in
How sweet was our love

Though the path is long
You left me by the wayside
To walk by myself

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Wednesday, 23 September 2015

Young Jimmy

Many, many years ago Fanny and her younger brother Jimmy lived with their parents in the woodman’s cottage in the forest where their father worked looking after the trees on the Gentleman’s estate.

One day the bailiff came to see the family and said the children now had to go to school as it is now was the law of the land; so each day from then on they had to walk to the village school to learn their lessons.

As they were older than many of the children there the teacher got them to help the little ones with their numbers and the alphabet whilst making sure they could write their names and do their sums and understand about the world outside the woods.

They were quite bright because living and helping their parents they knew much about land and the trees and how hard their parents worked.

The teacher told them about the world outside the forest, the country they lived and that the planet earth spun on it axis around the sun.

Young Jimmy shook his head sadly and protested, “I only know about the axes that my Dad chops the trees down with”.

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Yes, your excellency

The president of the small republic walked sedately down the back steps of the presidential palace to enter the awaiting limousine. It was Friday and the day that he and his entourage would drive through the streets of the capital for him to be greeted by the populace who had been encouraged to line the streets for this regular farce. The president waved politely from behind his bullet proof window as the free paper flags distributed the day before were dutifully waved as he passed by and then thrown in the gutter when they walked home as he left them far behind. With his usual righteous sanctimoniousness he nodded to his aide by his side “I do like meeting the people” now let us return home to the palace. Just then his bullet proof limousine braked and swerved across the tree lined avenue.

The president automatically crouched down on the floor and whispered “What’s happening, what’s happening?”

His aide, checked out the street spoke to the driver and then turned to the president still hiding on the floor, “It alright now sire it was only a pathetic crippled child crawling across the street, but we managed to avoid him.”

“Have him arrested and removed from the city. I have told you before that the streets must be cleared of vermin before I greet the people.”

“Yes, your Excellency, I’ll speak to chief of police.” 

Image found at

Tuesday, 22 September 2015

Embracing the wild

What beaten track is this?                                     
Shakes her head, that’s no fun                         
The birds will avoid us                                           
So we must search them out                                
She said laughing out loud                                                          
Who was I to argue?                                              
People were far away                                                                    
Going about their business                                              
We were lost in the bush                                                   
So sat down, ate our lunch                                               
How blissful it now was                                         
The sweet scent of gum trees                               
Birds came to check on us                                    
While we kept very still                                          
We were adjudged harmless                                
They gossiped by themselves                              
A wombat shuffled by                                            
Snakes feared our heavy tread
Kangaroos scratched idly
There’s nothing better than
Embracing the wild
Choosing the other path

New Holland Honeyeater image found at
Kangaroo image found at

Sunday, 20 September 2015

You see me not

What charming words of love can I speak
For each time I see you I am struck dumb
It’s like receiving a sweet birthday present
But find joy choking my deepest feelings
Thus rather than dazzling you with my wit
My mind in awe, is stumped, speechless
Resolution pared away like orange peel
I watch the way you move with grace
What weapons you have to lure me
You sweet hazel eyes entrance me
Your lips almost beg to be kissed
This yearning rots my poor soul
It spanks, no cruelly tortures me
Now eroding my will to dare enter
Those open gates to paradise
Lest I cause you to bear
Some small resentment
Of my deep affection
But you see me not
So I weep for you
Quite alone

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Saturday, 19 September 2015

Late for the train

I lay in the valley of your breasts
How sweet the scent of morning
Trying to avoid that call to work
And you evicting me from our bed
Sadly I must flee very soon
Dash off with the rising sun
For my daily commute to town
To arrive in the nick of time
Just why do we live two lives?
She opens her eyes and pleads with me
Then whispers those beguiling words
Stay home, help me with the washing
Who could deny the lure of that?
My resolve subsides, I smile at her
The only day I can’t get free, I moan
We both sigh with disappointment
The trick of happiness is to lie
Especially when the fearful threat
Of domesticity beckons you
As out I run late for the train

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How cruel we are


I can’t get over how cruel we are to coffee beans. Bred like battery hens in unending rows fed and watered never knowing freedom being raised for mankind's strange sadistic pleasure.

Then just as their mother feels that joy of procreation her countless children are ripped from her, dried out, tortured by roasting in some satanic ritual that has no kin to the natural world just to be encased in strange sepulchres of Hessian sacks and glared at, probed, tested and finally roasted and either crushed to crumbs or left intact entombed in glass or metal containers to be stared at by strange human beings who purchase these burial chambers and take them home to be placed in dark cupboards only to be worshipped at their bidding in further acts of bestiality.

These poor children’s remains and those beans who are not yet as dust are now sadistically ground in these animals homes and placed in sacrificial cauldrons and boiled gleefully with water specifically at the right temperature. Then to cap it all the hot sea of crushed coffee children is then placed in sacred drinking vessels whilst these insane humans sip gratefully at the hot mix muttering strange sighs such as “I needed that” or “I can’t start the day without my coffee”. I hope the guilt of their experience keeps them awake for such glee at our children’s funeral.

Image at top found at
Image at bottom found at

Thursday, 17 September 2015

A shot rang out

He lined up with hundreds of others and jostled for position trying to make sure they could run free when they could

A shot rang out and suddenly as if in panic the whole crowd of started surging forward fearful of those running after them.

There was jostling and pushing trying not to fall over and being crushed by the others desperately trying to catch them.

On and on they went through the crowded streets, up hill, across bridges with everyone trying to flee those thundering behind.

Younger, fitter ones overtook him and didn’t even glance to see if he was safe being so much older than the rest.

Finally after many miles, worn out sweating and gasping for breath he finally felt he had made it and crossed the tape for he had completed his first run in the City-Bay run and finished in nine hundred and twenty fifth place. 

Image found at

Wednesday, 16 September 2015

Goyder's Line

They were new settlers
A promised land of milk and honey
He knew it was just damned hard work

Fifty acres of bush land                                                     
Each day he labored hard to clear it                                
While pregnant Sharon milked the goat                         

Noxious weeds thrived there                                            
Trees as iron stubborn as he was                                    
The dog shook his head at the flies                                 

His plough shear struck rock                                            
The creek chose not to flow in summer                          
Finally he now had a son                                                 

They lasted a few years                                                     
But the crops would not grow without rain                     
They walked off the land penniless                                

The land breathed again                                                   
Haphazard bushland reclaimed its own             
‘Til miners and cattle men came                                      

In 1865 George Goyder, Surveyor General of South Australia determined that growing crops in the north of South Australia where the average rainfall was less than 10 inches a year was not viable. The remains of many abandoned farmhouses is still a reminder of that.

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Let your song be delicate

I wooed a singer                                          
Just what did she see in me?                   
This tone deaf artist                                    

But she drew me in                                    
She tripped hither and thither             
For me it was love                                      

As she sweetly sang                                  
Her green eyes did search me out           
Such was her deep love

Our romance blossomed
Delicate flower of mine
And so we were wed

What more can I tell
Is that her voice singing now
From heaven’s abode?

Though she has gone far
She comforts this sad old man 
In his long black night

Sing, sing on my love
Let your song be delicate
I dream of you still

Image of chorus of peris (fairies) in 'Iolanthe' found at
Yes, my late wife was a chorus girl in Iolanthe many years ago.

Saturday, 12 September 2015

Timeless memories

Timeless memories
It was a moonless night
The stars too were shy
Twinkling at me
Like cute schoolgirls
Walking home from school
What were their names
Gone from my memory
Rolling down the hill of life
My heart’s still pulsing
At such a sweet thought
It moves me to tears
Furrows my old brow
My hopes turned to dust
Floating away with the days
As these cruel years
Keep rolling along
I am powerless now
It’s not what we have done
But what we have not
That is the rub in life

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In this strange city

He did not turn up
Tears drizzled down her face
Her heart was broken

She was left alone
After he had agreed to meet
In this strange city

Ripe for adventure
This was no a birthday treat
But danger itself

She was far from home
Jetsam washed on a strange shore
Line of safety gone

Fear sprouts in her mind
Who was silhouetted there?
Thank heavens, it’s Dad

Image of Rain in the City by Julie Hutchison found at

Art was an artist

Art was an artist
Rob broke into many banks
Prudence was just shy

Brian was brainless
Jay walked straight across the street
But Paul was revered

Omar bridged the gap
Oscar often won awards
Jack was real card

Chris went into church
Matthew told the gospel truth                   
Martha sat by Chris

Melody’s song soared
Young Dora was an explorer                                
Walt stole a wallet

John imagined things
Paul wrote some silly love songs
George sang my sweet lord

Some of the above are obvious others merely wordplay or juxtaposition of letters but I would be pleased to see if anyone can guess who Omar was!

Image found at

Wednesday, 9 September 2015

She would flick her hair

I thought she was perfect but sadly she was engaged to Harry Smithers and there didn’t seem to be anything I could do about it.

I suppose it was the look in her eyes that first attracted me to her for they were like soft dark pools of mystery with a touch of laughter.

Then there were her pretty hands and you will think me strange that by just seeing the way she moved them as she spoke would make her that much more desirable.

However it was the spark of life in her every movement that was the clincher for me, such as the way she would flick her hair when speaking to emphasize a point or stare right into your eyes (well mine really) when in conversation.

Did Harry know what a gem he had, I think not because he confided in me one day that it wasn’t working out for the two of them for some reason, while I shook my head sadly.

I sympathized by saying “I’ll try and keep in touch with her” which was just as well I did as we got married a few months later.

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I awoke early

I awoke early
There’s a faint glimmer of light
On the room's window

This day like most days
Slaps me hard around the face
So I am still here

Death is impartial
His absence means I get up
Rather than sleep on

It has been raining
Someone’s been crying for me
Well that’s a comfort

I really love life
Which seems is my fatal flaw 
She will flirt with me

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Now lest you think me a pagan ass
Remember I talk with forked tongue                              
Once when I was so very young                                      
At school I sat dumb in Latin class                                   

Why was I learning a language dead                              
Spake by Romans as conquests they made                  
As with nubile maidens down they laid                          
Except now by chemists to earn their bread                  

I was bored completely in my brain                                 
So carved my initials in the desk’s top                           
My knuckles wrapped soon did make me stop               
Teacher said my future was down the drain                   

If only he’d told of their heroic deeds                              
Monsters and voyages far from home                                       
Of gods and goddesses sowing seeds                           
Then my mind would not have roamed                         

I couldn’t wait for the class to end                                             
To get out on the sports field with a ball                          
Then joyfully homeward I could wend
Now hand in hand with my sweet gal                            

Image of Perseus saving Andromeda found at

Sunday, 6 September 2015

A talk with you

Hello my forest friends
You’re not so different from me
Why did we part company
Something in our DNA
Or just our poor manners
May I walk among you
Can I cross that wide bridge
Skirt our stagnant pond
Sit down and talk with you
Please don’t show your teeth
We are so much alike
Cells, organs, hearts beat as one
But what we have kills us
It’s money that we worship
An ivory tower we cannot escape
That maleficent power
Rules everything we do and say
Come secretly signal to me
Can we escape this compulsion
Be some value to the world again
There followed a long silence
Then a cold breeze blew up
The animals sadly shook their heads
My dog got up and joined them

Saturday, 5 September 2015

In praise of rich nations

Can these verses speak
demanding answers for the wars
while you keep silent

Tell of its foul stench
scars inscribed on my people
poor shoeless children

Those planes flying now
Pretending to end conflict
Blood's scarlet stain spreads

It's a game you play
Big cash holdings in the bank
Though sadly we die

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Lover's lament

She turned in her sleep
So he wrapped his arm round her
Dreaming she murmured

“Darling Paul” she said
The wind’s late whispered warning
Did not reach her ears

He was gone by morn
Hunted by the family
Of the dead woman

They did not find him
Long drowned dead by his own hand
In the deep peat bog

I am so restless
My beautiful and most fair
Oh how I miss her

Image found at

Thursday, 3 September 2015

Maggie May

Maggie May an old family friend of his mother’s had died so the lawyer’s letter had informed him and he was mentioned in the will.

Yes, he remembered her from when he was a small lad not yet at school for she looked after him at home when his own mother had worked in the wartime.

She was a widow from the Great War and had no children of her own so she loved being his minder.

He hadn’t seen her in for many years and was surprised that she even remembered him from so long ago but she had and left him all she had.

Her possessions were few and they would be hard to give away and would best taken to the dump except for one small box of her little treasures of a lifetime which mainly consisted of photos of him as a child.

He was content with that though as he could feel her love for him come through as he recalled all those times when she had been a mother to him.

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Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Twist of fate

Jim squirmed in his seat
Elastic contortionist on stage
He hated such acts

Amusing the crowd
Impossible shapes and turns
Only made him ache

So looked at her face
He then fell deeply in love
What a twist of fate

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A real keeper

Jimmy liked to play the field                                   
See how easy they might yield                             
Test his prowess as a beau                                  
Just to see how far they’d go                                 

Tease them, squeeze them, that’s his way         
He had no mind for future days                            
Girl’s romance ends before it starts                      
Left in field of broken hearts                                  

Then Joan came upon the scene                         
Cutest girl he’d ever seen                                     
Not the easiest one to woo                                    
He had much more work to do                              

Jim’s watershed moment came                            
For this girl was not the same 
Loving her was that much deeper 
For he'd found a real keeper 

Image found at