poetry

The Lobbyist

Standard 
 Have you sat in a lobby
 watching them come and then go?
 In and out, to and fro,
 wondering where in fact they go.
  
 They say Life is like a lobby
 with a revolving door; 
 In and out, to and fro,
 where in fact do we really go?
  
 See, watching in a lobby 
 is becoming my hobby.

Butterfly

Standard 
 A butterfly flew on by
 Flittered, fluttered
 Caught the eye
  
 It flew into the sky
 Blue, azure
 Flew so high
  
 Higher than I could spy
 Gutted, I muttered
 ‘I hope it will not die’.

Turning 60

Standard 
When I turn Sixty –
I’ll hike the Kokoda Trail
(No way my body will fail),
I’ll bound up the highest mountain,
Frolic naked in a city fountain.
 
And when I turn Sixty -
I’ll photograph like a kid,
No lines, wrinkles, nothing hid,
My skin pristine, cheeks a flush,
OK they might use the odd air brush.
 
And when I turn Sixty -
There’ll be no stopping me,
Watch me climb the tallest tree,
Hey, I will be the living proof
Of the meaning of Eternal Youth.
 
And when I turn Sixty -
I’ll prove that being Sixty
Is the new Fifty, Forty, Thirty,
On the wrong side of middle age?
No, Sixty’s got to be all the rage.
 
But now that I’ve turned Sixty -
I’ve started to feel a bit ditsy,
Memories start to make me misty,
And the old back is playing up,
May be no longer the young pup.
 
And now that I’ve turned Sixty -
I think I’ll take Sixty lying down,
Curl on the couch like a sleepy hound,
Snooze, then pop open a can of VB,
And watch adrenaline sports on TV,

The Pigeon (a sonnet)

Standard

Capture

What is the point of a pigeon?

Have you ever pondered this thought?

I’ve scanned the books, all religions,

And believe this bird to be a rort.

 

There you waddle, pecking at refuse;

Fat head bobbles, you coo and scratch;

And you can home (that’s no excuse);

Those other birds you cannot match.

 

But God must’ve something in His mind:

A niche, a role for you my friend;

In pity I wink, reason sure to find;

Stop this poem reaching a sad end.

 

But now white goo splatters my eye;

Then a wink from pigeon up on high!

 

Runny nose poem

Standard

Capture

 

 

 

 

 

 

RED, RED NOSE

O my Love’s like my red, red nose,
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Love’s like an allergy,
That helps us snore in tune.

Now you’re so cool, my bony lass,
But so deep in snot am I;
And I will love you still, my dear,
Till all my sinuses go dry.

Till all my sinuses go dry, my dear,
And we can have some fun;
But I will love you still, my dear,
When again my nose does run.

So see you soon my only Love,
And see you, for a while!
And I will come again, my Love,
With one big snotty smile!

(Author’s note: Apologies to Robert Burns for the take on his poem ‘Red, Red Rose’)

 

 

Book lovers poem

Standard

Capture

AT A BARNES AND NOBLE

I met her at a Barnes and Noble

She was young, I was much older

Coo-coo-ca-choo, she behind a folder

Our eyes then met, and I told her

I’m looking for a book

At a Barnes and Noble

 

We made love in a Barnes and Noble

It happened in the non-fiction section

Between Religion or History on reflection

No one noticed, no detection

Only the books saw the action

At a Barnes and Noble

 

We were married at a Barnes and Noble

It was literally a fine celebration

Filled with friends and the odd relation

Books and us – the ultimate creation

Books hailed our matrimony

At a Barnes and Noble

 

Our children live in a Barnes and Noble

Reading books is our only pastime

Other kids play Xbox, games of that kind

But this line I’m struggling to rhyme

I will get the answer

At a Barnes and Noble

 

This poem is brought to you

By Barnes and Noble

‘Book a Life’

At a Barnes and Noble.

A light at the end of the tunnel

Standard

Capture

When the darkness is so overwhelming,

Look to the stars above for some hope,

The glow in the eyes of a child playing,

Helping the mind restore and to cope.

 

There’s a light at the end of the tunnel,

A hope to help lift us from despair,

A hole for water to escape a funnel,

Letting us out when the world’s unfair.

 

You will enter a place of still solitude,

Peace and quiet, solace from all the din,

To get there you’ll need to show fortitude,

As this nirvana you will find is within.

 

Perfection

Standard

You caught my eye as

I ran on by

 

I doubled back to

take a look

 

And in the shop you

peered at me

 

Statuesque, perfect

in every way

 

Like Bo Derek in 10

a vision splendid

 

Such style, such elegance

a Sophia Loren

 

The curves, the contours

Angelina Jolie

 

But then I noticed you

did not move

 

Old Hall

Standard

Capture

We came from near and from far,

To the hall at the end of the tar,

To dance to Frank and his band,

Far from war in another land.

 

We waltzed long into the night,

Till night gave way to first light,

Two tops in a twirl and a spin,

We danced with aplomb and a grin.

 

We joined as one in barn dance,

Chance to romance and to prance,

We thought our life was just made,

No chance of the bombs from a raid.

 

We slipped to the back of the hall,

None saw our stealth and our gall,

Not to think of whether we should,

We carved our love into the wood.

 

the floor has sprung

boarded windows clatter

in wind like a percussion solo

rats scuttle to their pit

battered paint peels

uncovering

‘Albie loves Essie’

 

a developer eyes the structure

‘Yeah, it’s a knockdown mate’.