Showing posts from June, 2020

My Garden

I’m sat here in my gardenA garden I know so wellI’ve tended every square footNot that you can tell
I’m comfortable in my gardenIt’s serene safe and secureIs it wise to venture outIf I’m honest I’m not sure 
I’m a dreamer in my gardenPlotting the rest of my lifeWe’ve been through a lotJust me and my good wife
I’m watching birds in my gardenLiving life so simple and freeThey sing songs every morningIs it me they’ve come to see
I’m watching news in my gardenLockdown’s easing no doubt Boris opens up the cafs and pubsSo we can have a beer when we’re out
I’m reflecting in my gardenWhether I’ve missed not going outOr whether staying in a little while longerIs not a better shout!

Premier League

Football, football’s coming homeAston Villa versus Sheffield UnitedGame dedicated to Black Lives MatterI think I was in danger of getting over excited
It soon turned out to be a snooze festWith Hawkeye seemingly still furloughed It missed the goal in the back of the netCrowds would have boo’d if the gates weren’t closed
Jamie Rednapp whispered on the touch lineInsightful commentary certainly lackingNo need for a highlight programme As neither team seemed bothered about attacking
Physios coming on wearing full PPEAfter added time, still nil nilThe Premier League may well be backBut kid me not this game was dull!


Nothing could keep these folk in the shadeThe scarecrow builders of Woodland GladeLockdown here has not been wastedIngenious efforts have been createdBill and Ben lit up their gardenSombrero scrubber, boobs like Dolly PartonKeep two metres apart warns the PCThe little mermaid relaxing under the seaHagrid leant against a carLockdown arms a virtual barSuperman clings to a wallCrowds in the streets loving it allJo Wicks PE there for all to seeGolfers playing off the teeCampers, boozers fishermen tooMario proud in his dungarees blueWorzel Gummidge and his aunt SallyPeople exploring every snicket and allyScary beings with a severed handDonald Trump with his Domestos brandSpongebob square pants has a waveGirl doing her exam, must behaveMarilyn Monroe with her dress all floatyA pirate with his sword and little goateeElsa, Olaf a little FrozenSmiles abound not one but a dozenAliens look out it’s Doctor WhoMinions, Potter, and Poppins tooApologies to those I fail to mentionThis was certainly…

Garden Haikus 

Birds singing so sweetNature’s own background musicDrowning out my thoughts
Lazing under shadeContemplating what to doBeers best in the sun
Random clouds gather A gentle warning of changeBrollies needed soon.

Stepping Out

Stepping out of a cocooned existenceSomething inside is showing resistanceVoices whispering the consequences Teasing me tentatively back to my senses
Stepping out to seek normality Infused with a kind of irrationalityWanting to wade into a waiting worldFearing the virus could again be unfurled
Stepping out to breath with other soulsDaring not to breach critical controls Glimpses of faces only seen on screensPraying for immunity and viable vaccines
Stepping out to a world that’s been missingInstead of just sitting and reminiscing Sounds and sights will seem so fresh and newThe importance of life now clearly in view. 

Killing Time

I’m sat here on the sofa doing nothing, just killing timeEven thought about writing a silly little rhymeI put my pen to paper then put it down againCouldn’t muster any enthusiasm so I counted up to 10I thought I’d pour myself a drink, a cold one made with iceAn orange juice, a splash of vodka and a little sliceI gulped the thing down in one which made me quite light headed A mixture of booze and sun and I soon felt a little shredded. I’m now sat on the sofa doing nothing but killing timeWishing I was more active and not just craving wine. 

An Eighties Rhyme

Beautiful day walking on sunshineCome on let’s dance be mineBe like those girls on film Me Tarzan boy come swimIn lavender fields with meOnly you can set me freeOn Echo Beach the harder I tryThis never ending story bleeds me dryI know you’re a modern girlYou sexy thing, too shy, like a pearlEach day I’ve been living in a boxUse your imagination, don’t go to detox I’ve been searching big funSince I was 19 with Geno’s mumYou were a centrefold, a good heartOur lips were sealed and that was a startAs a slave to love I have to bite my tongueAs we had it too much too youngYou with Black Man Ray and LeoMe showing out like a man child in RioHey you and the Rocksteady crew Had such big fun became respectable, grewMy senses working overtime, feeling I’m turning JapaneseSuch a good life ,able to do the buffalo stance with such easeLike I was dancing in the street giving a rebel yellI wanted to say let’s go all the way, could you tellI didn’t ask your name until you told me it was KayleighI too…


Back in the day when not mollycoddled by the state you seeWhen everything was not governed by health and safetyThere was a weekly school session of perilous PENot the warm and cuddly Joe Wicks kind you see on TV
The lesson started with the presentation of parents lettersPleas to be excused plus a few absent minded kit forgettersWho had to strip down to their vests pants or knickersBlack sand shoes worn; no trainers or sneakers 
In winter there loomed the dreaded cross country racePloughed fields, stinky bogs splatters of shit across the faceUnfit fatties, fags in pockets could only dream of keeping paceMany couldn’t last the course so finishing at all was no disgrace
Parquet flooring covered in confusing linesWooden horses to twist and shatter spinesThirty kids running around manically in close confinesCompetitive crab football between two psyched up sides
Excitement knew no bounds when Pirates was the gameA contest of chase on ropes benches and the climbing frameHeart beating fast, risk…

Cummings and Goings

Crisis for Boris at Number 10Is it a question of where and when?Should he stay or should he go?The British public we all knowDominic’s comings and goings broke the lockdown spiritWhen travelling 260 miles for a parental visitBoris is backing his special adviserWould have thought he would have been much wiserUndermining Stay at Home to save the NHSCummings clearly couldn’t give a tossTravelling so far with a wife with a virusAvoiding rules and guidance that we’re meant to inspire usOthers had to cope at homeWhile others suffered all aloneThis political situation is so graveThat people in future may not behaveThey may not bother to social distanceWhen Boris lays down the rules there may be resistance Come on Cummings do the right thingWe’ve all done so well; don’t ruin everything! 

Bosom of Hades

I’m sat at the bar. Beer consuming my being. Feeling my world is caving in. Thoughts flash through the empty vessel masquerading as my brain. Am I going insane or just a sorry excuse for a man. I stand like a circus performer, a target for the daggers, wishing one would go astray and pierce my broken heart. For a start it wasn’t meant to be this way. I earned an honest living, paid my dues,now I drink every day. The alcohol searing through my veins to the point of inevitable destruction. A dereliction of my duty as a man a father a husband. I can’t remember the moment when I stood at the top of the hill and looked down towards the abyss. A black hole with no way out. I did shout, oh god how I shouted. So loud it made my ears bleed. But no one took heed of my cries my desperate pleas for a return to normality to a life where comfort in skin was akin to an instant lottery win. But why would they? They knew or did they? Could they not see me sliding lower, losing self esteem. Reflecting …

It Hurts 

It hurtsBeing isolated from your beating heart It hurtsNo longer able to touch your soul  It hurtsImages of your smile slowly fading into a misty landscapeIt hurtsFrivolous and free laughter still echoes in this empty boxIt hurtsRolling meadows emblazoned in vivid splashes of colour miss your footstepsIt hurts Sitting alone staring out to sea in a paradise place once sharedIt hurtsPerfume lingering like you’re still standing thereIt hurtsStaring at the myriad of mesmerising stars and seeing your faceIt hurtsFighting back the tears, the fear of losing the memory of youIt hurts. 

Pretentious Poet

I am a pretentious poetI have an attitude so whatI don’t care what people sayI’ll post my poems everydayI’ll talk about rubbish and nonsenseAbout everyday stuff and SexI’ll make em rhyme if I canWrite poems bout trips to Japan
I am a pretentious poetI fool myself that I can writeBut stuff at best is really shiteI am no Wordsworth, Whitman or WildeMy poems at best are quite reviledIn writing I lack any style or finesse But carry on regardless nonetheless.

And Here’s The News (13th May 2020)

Confusion reigns as lockdown relaxes The Chancellor talks about raising taxesWe may need to economise live a little leanerBut thankfully we can all re-employ the cleaner
Teachers rebel about going back to schoolI can get on a golf course and play like a foolRihanna’s knickers and scent have made her mintedSharing commutes with open windows permitted
The tracing app is about to go nationwideNow there will be no bloody place to hideDitching testing and tracing a mistake says HuntTrump attacks female reporters what a silly stunt
The Premier League lose battle to play neutral venues Up to my back teeth with the virus monopolising the news Surely to god The Sun can find a different tackWoohoo extensions pulled out with pliers by Emily Atack


There once was a little squirtWhose instructions he tried to pervert He went to house parties Snogged some lookalike BarbiesAnd forgot to stay alert!!


I miss the unbridled freedomI miss being as one in a crowdI miss flicking through pages in bookshops I miss flying off to foreign lands. 
I miss the sand caressing my feetI miss dipping my toe into the oceanI miss being moved to tears in the moviesI miss the buzz and bustle of busy bars. 

I miss the aroma of coffees in piazzasI miss vertiginous views over crowded citiesI miss catching teas and cakes on cornersI miss sailing silently into setting sunsets
I miss clambering up to the tops of mountainsI miss strolling through moors of purple heatherI miss being self absorbed in art I miss the sound of willow on leather
I miss ice creams licked on lively piersI miss being cosseted in rooms with viewsI miss the eclectic tunes of foreign tonguesI miss travelling through history in museums
I miss the lure of live loud musicI miss manicured gardens to stroll through I miss flashing lights and fun of the fairBut most of all, miss being with you! 

Lockdown Haikus

Draw me in sky blueYou light up endless darknessGive hope in lockdown
Smiles from miles awayHealing the soul from sofasLove shared on WiFi
Strangers used to scowl Chatter is now flowing freeSafely at distance
Wildlife distancingReleased from human impactWalking in the street

VE Day

“My dear friends this is your hour”Your time to celebrate our freedomFrom your locked down world,Where all seems grim and bleak,Where normality seems a distant memoryHow life now would have been So different though, but for the sacrifice of the brave men and women of our landWho gave all to protect this country from a visible foe
Today we should have been wrapped In each other’s arms dancing in the streetSharing a toast and hope with our loved onesIn hostelries in towns and cities, at the coast and in villagesBut here we are shut down at home Looking out onto the world outsideThat’s waiting to embrace us againThat’s waiting to celebrate defeating the unseen enemyThe killer of so many innocent friends and family
Our troops are our heroes, the medics and key workersWho risk their lives so that future generationsWill be able to lift their glassesToast our generation for defeating this invisible foeIt won’t just be victory in Europe but victory for the world. In the meantime let’s take a qu…

And Here’s The News (5th May 2020)

Normal People smashes bingeing recordsTracing app will it reap any rewards?Concorde Captain dies of Covid 19Conor Burns Minister becomes another has been
Infected volunteers may have to test drugsRosie Wicks steps in to plenty of hugsThe deadly disease has killed a StranglerIn many States there is still lockdown anger
Baseball is back to bare empty ball parksBA boss sued over Grindr remarks Wine left breathing’s a bloody waste of timePeople posted charges for serious crime
Microbe in mosquitoes can block malariaThe murder hornet may develop US hysteriaThe service sector slumps 80 percentOil prices rise as more people are present
Prefab homes make a comeback in SelbyBack to 1946 car sales that are unhealthyPain in the teeth, do it yourself fillingsToo much running may develop misgivings
Well that’s the news in silly rhymesFrom today’s online edition of The Times.


In hazy distant times when we could flutter our wingsFly high over misty horizons to experience new tunes on violinsSoak in eternal springs, capture exploding sunsetsRelish the dew of morning strolls sidestepping silhouettes 
In hazy distant times when we could flutter our wingsFeel liberated from social convention to do our own thingsBarefoot dancing on fields of golden paradiseMyriads of eclectic flavours to consume and entice
In hazy distant times when we could flutter our wingsEscape normality, anxiety and all the stress it bringsCaress romantic cultures, smile with soulful strangersMarvel at music and songs from choirs of angels. 
In hazy distant times when we could flutter our wingsVenture beyond garden fences where so called life beginsI dreamt this technicolour fantasy could be forever sippedBut is life more fulfilling now our wings have been clipped?

Captain Tom

Birthday wishes to Captain TomA hero, a legend who’s second to noneHe captured the heart of a locked down nationEpitomised the backbone of his generation100 laps of his garden for the NHS£30 million he raised, a resounding successToday a centenarian we raise a glass to TomA man who made us proud of where we come fromHurricane and Spitfire will light up the skiesAwaiting for the moment the Queen says ariseSir Tom, a military man, a national treasureWhose given us hope and belief in equal measure

The Lockdown Look

I haven’t been out me door for a weekNot changed me socks they bloody reek I’ve run out of deodorant and antiperspirant The whiff from underarm is clearly unpleasant
Teeth they’ve missed their dose of Maclean’sMy sex appeal’s more like Mr Bean’sBreath like sewerage on a hot summer dayNot helped by lashings of chicken Bombay
My hair’s a mess it’s bloody out of control Scissors at the ready and a pudding bowlBeard’s scraggy and not looking it’s bestScratching and itching like a bloody bird’s nest!
My dirty fleece; you’ll find a month of dinnersThanks god I’ve given up looking in mirrorsDespite all this I observe government demandsAnd spend all my days washing me hands!

No Room For Zoom

iPad ready sat on sofa in living roomDebating whether we’re using FaceTime or ZoomOur tablets balanced on a table precariously Are you’re happy with that angle seriously?It takes a time to make the connectionWife wipes down the device for fear of infectionAfter a while they come into viewI think they’ve already had a fewThey mutter something like can you hear meThen do a bottoms up and a hi five...virtuallyWe sit together like on Mr and MrsIt’s not long before the men are off for their pissesWine bottle well hidden not in viewIt’ll be harder to tell that we’ve had a few tooSpielberg’ll have a duck fit when we slip out of frameHappens loads when there’s a hint of a game We sweat a lot at the thought of the pub quiz spotBut cheat on our phones just out of shot! Women whinge at the blokey buddy banterComplain that in lockdown her man doesn’t understand herThe girls witter as the blokes look boredWhen talking about football the lads get ignored. The call degenerates as we get more pissed…

Reflections in Lockdown

Blank faces pass in a blurNo time to stop, no time to careWrapped and cocooned in pityDriven to despair by another committeeSteps we take that go nowhereRecorded on a device from a billionaire. Exhaling pollution like it’s going out of fashionEnergy wasted on a pretty pointless passionWe pity the pavement ne’er-do-wellsTurn our noses up at unsociable smellsMake a beeline to avoid the nutterSelling Big Issue from another gutterOur meaningless lives lost in the momentIgnore these folk like a rancid rodentBut times do change our mindsets tooSitting at home with nothing to doBut think how selfish we’ve all becomeWhat enabled us to all succumbTo a world where lives weren’t equal There’s going to be no thrilling sequelWhen lockdown’s unlocked and people flockTo towns and cities, let’s take stockTo remember those who matter mostThe guy who continued to deliver postThose stacking shelves to give you toastThe Just Eat man delivering Sunday roastHealth workers, social care, people beyond compar…

And Here’s The News (26th April 2020)

Tory Grandees lockdown release pleasDrug shortages bring NHS to its kneesGee Wizz budget airline spreads its wingsVirtual online orgies titillation it bringsForget the moonshine it’s bootleg beauticiansHomeless swap streets for hotel suite conditions Spring cleaning’s gone mad, we’ve all gone chore crazy Except me of course I’m still being bloody lazyLockdown crop pickers pick for BritainI’m so bloody bored I’ve taken up knittingWe’ll have to wait a while for a virus vaccine Lockdown protest only seven can be seenKim Jong-Un is he really a gonner?Surely it’s time to give Captain Tom an honourSo that’s the news of the weekend in rhymesMainly from the latest edition of the Sunday Times. 

I’m Sure I Could Be President

I’m sure I could be PresidentMy hair’s a mess for startersTweets twittered totally insaneIgnoring dictates from doctors
I’m sure I could be PresidentEgo shining at the lecternShooting random stats from hipAnd nonsense from my rectum. 
I’m sure I could be PresidentFake tan smudged over the faceHead high so far up in the cloudsIgnorant to the fact that I’m a disgrace. 
I’m sure I could be PresidentWould always say believe meEverything I do or say is yuge!Really really great you see
I’m sure I could be PresidentInstigate another incredible rantLook the voter’s right in the eyeAnd suggest the solution’s disinfectant!  


I knew you were a chump mateI knew you were a chumpYour virus cure stinks mateYour virus cure stinks
Your wacky mate is mad mateYour wacky mate is madToo desperate for a cure mateToo desperate for a cure
You’re losing the plot mateYou’re losing the plotYour country’s in a state mateYour country’s in a state
Your solution’s hard to swallow mateYour solutions hard to swallowAnd if you did you’d be dead mateAnd if you did you’d be dead! 

I Forget Why

I forget why? Or when, I decided to do this thing. A run a day to challenge me. To pass the time till spring...maybe. Or to try to lose the excess inches or to try to please my princess. 
I forget why? I’d only done five days before when training like a marathon bore. Day after day the days were ticked off. Despite a cough a lot of scoff I’d soon completed a week. In spite of lack of credible technique and my legs that were antique. 
I forget why? I pledged to go onwards, forwards to infinity and beyond as Buzz would say from a distant pond. A month passed and we were in Sri Lanka. On a thing they used to call a holiday. 
I forget why? This distant land I knew I had to conquer. The streak it continued mercilessly until we were in isolation. 
I forget why? Bombarded by instruction, education,a nation in lockdown. I decided I could continue the streak in our beautiful bluebell wood. 
I forget why? When yesterday I passed a place of peace. A place overflowing with kindness, funding on the d…

I Close My Eyes

I close my eyes and hear the wind whooshing through the trees. It reminds me of the times I could listen to the seas.It takes me on a journey to far off distant shores. To a time when we were not engaged in virulent virus wars. 
I can almost feel the golden sand snuggling between my toes. The cheery chatter of fellow travellers hugging me so close. 
I close my eyes and drink another cup of tea. Imagining it’s a margarita sipped in life once free. 
I close my eyes and feel the sun caressing my face. Imagining this feeling felt in a different place. 
I close my eyes and dream that this will be over soon. So I can watch in wondrous places, the sun the stars the moon. 

This Lockdown Thing

This lockdown thing I’m smashing it. Or is it smashing me. I’m trying oh so carefully to not become lazy. I’ve weeded every garden bed...I’ve even done them twice. I’ve never done the grass border quite as precise. I’ve pressure washed me pavement so much it hurts my eyes. I’ve even done the washing up a job I do despise. I’ve taken time to prune the bush. I’ve baked a chocolate cake that’s lush. I’ve had a trip to the bottle bank. Well several to be frank! I’ve FaceTimed everybody, I’m sure they sick of me. They’ve run out of excuses for not speaking you see! Oh lockdown, oh lockdown you’ve got me so confused. I’m now doing all these bloody jobs that I previously refused. 


She said I looked just like StingWell tantric sex is not my thingI’ve never sent a message in a bottleOr walked on the moon or other twaddleFor every breath I bleeding take Standing so close to me is a big mistakeYou wrapped me around your fingerDe do do do de da da da don’t lingerYou see I can’t stand losing youSo lonely, so lonely who knew?I’m in pain I’m the king of painI’m wrapped around your finger againInvisible sun where has it goneHer beds too big without you sonRoxanne turn off that red lightThe synchronicity is shiteShe said I looked just like StingGood god dear what were you thinking

Billy Butterworth

His name was Billy Butterworth. A tattooed lump of lad. He spent all days down the gym. Pumping iron was his fad. His muscles inflated and ready to pop. His girlfriend deflated and gave him the chop. But bothered oh no he knew he could pull. Living for him was never dull. He lived life in the fast lane. Invincibility, his only domain. Nothing could ever touch him. Ego bright but a little dim. His mum she tried to warn her lad. Stay at home this virus seems pretty bad. Come on mum nothing will touch me. I’m fit as a fiddle as you can see. Besides it only affects old fogies like you. Put the kettle on let’s have a brew. Night after night he partied with mates. Went out with some lasses on plenty of dates. He ignored his mum, he didn’t believe her. Until that fateful day he developed a fever. Look here son what have you done. Pleaded his mum as she dialled 111. Billy struggled to catch his breath. Thought he was bloody close to death. They put him on a ventilator. His mum a distant spect…

When Lockdown is all Over

When lockdown is all overWill we miss the pure blue skiesWill we miss the morning chorusOr the shortage of supplies
When lockdown is all overWill we miss the daily runWill we miss Jo Wicks PEOr no holidays in the sun
When lockdown is all overWill we miss the chats onlineWill we miss the gentle way of lifeOr no restaurants to dine
When lockdown is all overWill we miss time with our kidsWill we miss playing in the garden Or no job to earn some quids
When lockdown is all overWill we miss the panel’s viewsWill we miss folk in their living roomsOr one topic in the news
When lockdown is all overWill we miss those acts of kindnessWill we miss doorstep clappingOr anxiety and stress
When lockdown is all overWill we miss eating to excessWill we miss the quiet streetsAnd forget the NHS???

And Here’s The News (13th April 2020)

Boris out of hospital looks a bit peekyPlenty of issues still with distributing PPEMilan lump in throat Andre BocelliWe’ll all have to wear masks to stay bleeding healthy
Nutters on the quiet roads some caught speedingBusiness insurance not paying out quite disappointingLockdown still under ministerial reviewIn Spain back to work for a selected few 
50 million pints of beer left in pubsBathing 6 feet apart on holiday still no hugsThank god another series of Killing EveTim Brooke Taylor dead RIP cant believe 
As for the death of legend Stirling MossPeter Bonnetti, goalkeeper another great lossTiger King still getting Netflix airtimeFaceTiming friends pissing up on wine
And news in the Sun paper todayCan you spot the naked butterfly painted lady. 
Good day! 

Corona Haiku

Unseen enemyJust waiting in the shadowsFor those not locked down


Boris, Boris has the virusAlong with a cabinet ministerIt doesn’t matter who you areThis pandemic’s bloody sinister!
Boris, Boris has the virusWe’ll need to keep our distanceIt doesn’t matter who you arePolice will enforce their insistence
Boris, Boris has the virusWe’re allowed to go for one runIt doesn’t matter who you areGoing for two’s just not done
Boris, Boris has the virusLife’s just not the sameIt doesn’t matter who you areThis ain’t no bloody game
Boris, Boris has the virusThis thing we need to suppressIt doesn’t matter who you areThank god for the NHS

Lockdown Shuffle

Couples couples everywhereDoing the lockdown shuffle One activity is the ruleTo keep you out of trouble


Random clutter in every creviceShouting at me to vent my angerA shoe here, a sock there, a coat Hanging slovenly on the bannister
I rant and scream and make a fussDemand that the stuff’s put backArguments would often ensue thatAlmost gave me a heart attack
It felt as though I was banging my headAgainst the proverbial brick wallSo hard it knocked me senselessIncandescent from an issue so small
But now the mess is all goneAs well as the subject of my concern Sadness now has replaced the furyOh please let the clutter return. 

Front Line

Today she packed her homeInto the back of a TransitTearfully each item storedPlaced as she’d planned it
Life would change foreverNo longer mummy’s little girlNow a woman stepping outInto the locked down fearful world
Into the medical battle she’ll goTo treat, to change a strangers lifeSkill compassion and determinationBattling an illness grave and rife
We’ll tearfully say our goodbyesShe’ll be strong and she’ll be fineSo very very proud to see herFighting on the NHS front line. 

Bring Back Brexit 

Bring back BrexitPoliticians fightingLeavers and remainersNothing exciting
Bring back BrexitFelt like a crisisCoronavirus Even scared ISIS
Bring back BrexitBored at homeFreedom of movementNow we’re all alone
Bring back BrexitBorder controlIrish backstopLoads of loo roll
Bring back BrexitEU cost us billionsPropping up businessCosting us trillions
Bring back BrexitMPs sharpened knivesTalk was cheapDidn’t cost us lives

Sorting Socks 

Sitting at home sorting socksWatching more trash on the boxFeeling bored can’t go outDown the pub for a stoutWife she tries to organiseHousework to prioritiseCleaning handles, knobsAnd plenty of other jobsJust to keep me occupiedOh god how I’ve tried To look so very busyEven played monopoly Bit boring on me ownTried to listen to Post MaloneWhoever he may beIt’s only been one day you seeCorona virus isolationFulfilling the national obligation 

Bedlam at Asda

There’s bedlam down at AsdaTwo women grappling the last loo rollThey scream stomp and shout aboutThey’ve totally lost control
There’s bedlam down at AsdaTrolleys so full the shelves are emptyCrowds at the till moan and groanNot one packet of pasta but twenty
There’s bedlam down at AsdaWe’re not concerned about shoplifting thievesBut the old women in aisle eightWho decides she needs to sneeze
There’s bedlam down at AsdaThe shelves are empty and bareWe’re told to isolate safe at homeI think I’ll wash my hair. 

Time on Hands

No more rushing for the trainNo more dodging the rainNo more busy working daysNo more tedious surveysNo more stuck in traffic jamsNo more stuffy city trams No more last minute breaksNo more business hand shakesNo more flashy foreign travelNo more trips across the channelNo more luxuriating on a cruiseNo more gramming foreign viewsNo more dancing in the clubNo more nipping out for grubNo more cheering for your teamNo more fun parks extremeNo more singing in the crowdNo more kissing folk allowed

Time to strengthen family tiesTime to appreciate blue skiesTime to stop, listen and learnTime to chip in and do your turnTime to understand the bardTime to clear out the yardTime to play with your sonTime to have lots of funTime to visualise the futureTime to regain your humourTime to binge on a box setTime to take up the clarinetTime to learn a foreign tongueTime to sing a favourite songTime to look in loved ones eyesTime to catch a sunriseTime to dream of foreign landsTime to have time on hands


Living life is like walking a tightropeFull of nervous tension and hopeBeautiful balance and all is goodThe perils and fears understoodKeeping focus one step at a timePlans, practice, preparation alignThis is the very moment that countsNot distracted by an occasional bounceDon’t look back always forwardsListening to those positive wordsIgnoring negative to help you copeLiving life is like walking a tightrope

Cracking Cakes

Cracking cakes at Crumbles on the Corner A fabulous tea shop like no otherWhere friendly folk gather to meetFor a delicious delightful sugary treat
Cracking cakes at Crumbles on the CornerTwo women serve with bold tattoosConjuring up some perfect brewsLaughing, joking with strangers and friends A normal coffee shop this place transcends
Cracking cakes at Crumbles on the CornerSat drinking tea there’s an old ladyShe’s experienced life; well over eightyWistfully staring out of the misty windowA lonely existence now she’s a widow
Cracking cakes at Crumbles on the CornerSat alongside her are two young walkersEating and clinking cups on their saucersThe rain outside brings others insideSandwich; hot beef, turkey; can’t decide
Cracking cakes at Crumbles on the CornerMulling over my culinary dilemmaLadies listening with their antenna You simply can’t go wrong with beefMelts in me mouth don’t affect me teeth
Cracking cakes at Crumbles on the CornerThe rain pours down others find shelterThe beef a…

Panic Buying

An obnoxious bloke got in a stew He clearly hadn’t thought it throughA vicious fight he did startCouldn’t pull them apartPanic buying bog paper for his loo

Tai Chi

Love is it really for me?This oriental fad tai chiYou’ll love it you see!Besides first session’s free
Sold to the Yorkshire manTry free one, that’s the planMartial arts I am not a fanI’ll never be a black belt Dan
I’m not that flexible not that bendyCan’t put leg in places not meant to beDon’t worry love it’s complementary Won’t pay a penny can recover by Wednesday
Cajoled and bullied in equal measureI tried to be positive hide my displeasure Succumbed to a bit of peer pressure She said I would feel much much better
Dance studio stood in the centreAvoiding eye contact of Tai Chi mentorBreathing stretching I tried not to surrenderTo the glare of women the opposite gender
Tiger, deer, bear, golden rooster, craneSnake creeps down am I going insaneRepulse the monkey feel the painMost of the commands it’s hard to explain 
He said I’d feel the positive energyRid myself of my usual lethargyPractice at home commit to memoryYou’ll love it you see the ancient Tai Chi!


From Arizona to BarcelonaThere’s only one coronaIt’s spreading like a Kardashian tweetKissing condemned when we greetIt started with someone in WuhanLockdown ended up the solutionA liner quarantined in JapanThe government work on their planA South Korean sect showed disrespectAs they infected countrymen through neglectVisit Italy and you have to stay at homeFourteen days shacked up all aloneSchools are looking to close their classesThey talk of this affecting the massesPanic buying at check out hellEveryone’s run out of sanitising gelPropaganda tells us to do it the Boris waySinging twice, washing hands; Happy Birthday!