Day: September 28, 2013

Lost in shadowed caves

 Have you ever had a dream,
That you were all alone?
Have you lived with someone handsome,
With a heart like a cold stone?

Have you drowned in deep,cold rivers,
And been lost in shadowed caves?
Have you lived with too much fusion,
Till you drowned in ghostly waves?

The waves run down the sea shore,
Then up they come once more.
The tide turns and life alters..
Deep on that ocean floor

.
You were so beautiful and silent,
Like a sword without its sheath.
I should have let you take me,
The way you took away my breath

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

H

Love is about here

 

They think that they own us


I’ve sung my wild singing in time gone before
But I don’t want to sing now
Oh,never no more.
And it’s no nay ,never
No,nay,never no more
Shall I use my voice here…
Nor out will it pour.

My name is Allanah,or Eileen. perhaps
And I came here from Ireland
with outdated maps
And it’s,Why,why ever,
Why ever and more
Did the Brits give no votes to
The poor Catholics?

My sister and brothers
All died from T.B.
And an early dark grave
is here waiting for me.
But I bore six children
And I cared for my man
As he came home so filthy
From the auld coal diggin’

We had no free doctor
And no kind midwife.
So though my son’s born,
Strain is takin’ my life.

Always and ever
The rich will maintain
That without them this country
Will go down the drain.

But why don’t you try it
As a memorial to me.
Let the rats all depart
And what shall we see?

No,nay,never,nay never no more
Shall I bear my man children
No nay never
Not ever again.

I looked down from heaven
Where God has put me
What did I find
When out did I see?

I saw that the world
Turns round once every day
The beggars and homeless
Kneel down and they pray

Oh,no no never,
dear God help the rich.
Your son tried to l’arn them
But they weren’t bewitched.
They have their accountants
And they have all their laws
They find their amusement
In troubles and wars.
They think that they own you
But,dear God,you’re not theirs
We saw your son Jesus
And he said you are ours

So when will you come down
To make that judgment?
My pen it has broken
My life force is spent.

So it’s no,nay never
Not ever again
Will I sing my old songs
Nor  shall  I love my own man

End of the month humor

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We once had a doctor called Powell,
Who spoke to patients mainly in vowels.
When he called I O U,
I asked for A and E too,
As I had so much pain in my bowels.

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Then we had a doctor called Keith
Who liked eating chips and roast beef.
He got so obese
We feared for his  very demise.

But he was  spectacularly thin underneath.

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We still have a doctor called Satan,
Who is very proficient at mating.
His children are numerous,
Don’t mention  the incubus,
And a true hell on earth they’re creating,
b

Letter to our P.M.

I  feel that all living creatures should pay rent


Dear David Cameron
I am a very intelligent ,brilliant and creative   woman. Yet I often wonder why your face has no expression on it;I must confess since the vote on Syria you have looked a bit bothered now and then,But blankness seems your favourite look.Watch out or an artist may paint a sign on you

Danger:Please stalk on the grass

Danger:Trespassers will be persecuted.
I am writing to complain.There are many magpies,wood pigeons and other such creatures all living for free in the garden here.And think of the ones in the woods.None of them are taxed,yet they get free board and lodging,And moreover we have hundreds of worms here which could surely be made to work.I know it’s hard to tell them apart but all those civil servants who read Modern Greats at Woxford must have a few ideas.
I think if worms don’t work we should mince them and make meat pies out of them… and wood pigeons… that makes me salivate.
Those who won’t work shall be turned into food.The Chinese eat dogs… you catch my drift.Hard solutions for hard times, to warm an old cliche.
I do feel that all living creatures should pay rent.Birds who live in a garden with more than one tree must be made to see how unfair this is.I am unsure what language they speak… maybe Hebrew as they were in Eden once.Oh,those lazy days,eating fruit and sunbathing.And sinning without guilt.did you know Adam and Eve were unmarried,by the way!
Well,it’s bad for us to be happy so I’m counting on you to pulverize nature in all manifestations.
Why,surely,worms are a total waste of time.Get rid of them.Send them back where they came from.Even as I write worms may be tunnelling under the British Channel from France.We can’t let them dwell in our soil.And in the Spring you must stop birds migrating here.Why some come from the Congo.Surely that’s not morally justifiable
Hoping my ideas will be balm to
your ears.And try to get more of an expression on your face.You are like an enpty canvas
Yours truly
Dumbina Dodd [ M.A.Oxen]

P.S.What about cats? They sleep 20 hours a day.It’s wicked!

Chaste by good fortune

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Stan woke up with a sore throat.

He had to write his wife a note.

He could not speak without much pain.

Oh,dear,he’s got a bug again!

 

 

Mary made him lemon tea.

He listened to the BBC.

He read the  paper front to back;

Did Su doku,called the quack!

 

 

This is Dr Browne right here,

but only gurgles could he hear!

He drove straight round to visit Stan,

He felt concern for this old man!

garden 2

 

Stan was lying in the hall.

Dr.Browne asked,Did you fall?

No,said Stan,I hate my bed.

I thought I’d lie down here instead.

 

 

It may be draughty,never mind.

Dr Browne is very kind.

What about this long settee?

It looks quite like a bed to me.

 

 

I hope you are not feeling gay!

Oh,my my!.What did you say?

I mean it seems a trifle odd

To compare a sofa with a bed.

 

 

I wonder if you love me, Stan?

Stan said,Doctor you’re a man!

I only love the sweeter sex!

Dr Browne looked very vexed.

 

 

Doctor I never knew before.

You are gay.,Oh,zut alors!

Yes,but I am very chaste.

I never go below the waist

 

 

So you just hold hands and kiss?

Yes,my man,it’s utter bliss.

But were do you meet your lovers gay?

I find them mainly on E-bay!

I place small adverts in the Times.

I joined a club for tasting wines.

 

Some I meet by chance alone.

Can’t you settle on just one?

But you are unfaithful to your wife?

You do not lead a saintly life!

 

 

Oh,Mary is not keen on sex,

She sits in bed and sends out texts.

Once our Lyra had been born,

She treated me with utter scorn!

 

 

 

I’m not God, I do not judge.

He gave Stan‘s arm a little nudge.

Don’t you want a tiny hug?

It really may scare off that bug

 

 

So Stan and Dr Browne embraced.

I assure you it was completely chaste.

Stan went off to make hot drinks

While Dr Browne admired his Quinks.

 

 

Do you use a fountain pen?

I use my Shaeffer now and then.

I got it when I went to college.

Through that pen has passed much knowledge.

 

 

But now my mind has gone quite blank.

I’d like to be completely frank.

Was  all my learning utter waste?

Not at all,it kept you chaste.

 

 

While you had your head in books,

It kept attention from your looks.

But now you’re   empty,Je t’adore.

With that he made for Stan’s front door.

 

 

 

Stan was gobsmacked by this visit.

He called to Emile:Oh,what is it?

Even though I’m 93

All I meet want to love me!

 

The English are mainly very queer.

Oh,said Emile,Oh,dear,dear!

Cats  don’t have much time for hugs

They chase the frogs and sleep on rugs

So he married a Rose

I once had a neighbor called Lumb
Who had double joints in his thumb.
They looked rather weird.
As did his beard.
Especially when filled with crumbs.

Lumb wrote lyrical poems
which left the young ladies all glowing.

He married a  Rose

And as everyone knows

Her love is  so deep it’s   overflowing.
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She has so many lovers as well
I am unsure whether I should tell.
I am not one for spying
On women who are lying
In the arms of the men they have felled

Not love nor money

 

 

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Not love nor money should we seek to steal;
Nor for self praise and esteem be in need
For these things cannot ever truly heal.
And onto a wrong path must often lead.

 

Not to vice nor virtue must our wills be tied;
Yet by some grace we gently may be led
Our will directs attention which denied
May let our pride control our thoughtless head.

 

Not good nor bad can track the vane of God
Far from our sightless eyes are his affairs.
Yet Faith and Hope can be a dowsing rod
With Love the force to trace the Spirit bare.

Oh,come down,Spirit,take me as your wife
Fill me with holy grace and with new lif