Your absence has so distanced us in grief.


I try to feel through dark and distant space
To where you dwell in a so called “heavenly” place.
And you are far from those of us, who care.
Our hearts are dulled with loving thoughts not shared
Your absence has so distanced us in grief.
We can neither share our loss, nor gain relief.
I stare into the spangled sky at night
I see a space  devoid of  any light.
I feel into the edges of my soul
I sense,somewhere, a partially dismembered whole.
Would new technology ever aid my view,
As I search around for some tiny trace of you?
How can  you choose to svanish in the night,
And never ,from then on, be in my sight?
I wish that I’d been there when you went off,
Then I could have  told you how I love.d
Shall I never hear again your gentle tenor voice
Enchanting me once more with your  sweet choice?
Shall I never  find the laces from your shoes,
Floating gently back to earth through these  elm trees?
I see more flocks of gracious geese flash by.
Are those your fingers tracing lines right through the sky?
Can you  see these same  geese from up above?
But you’re on the other side, too far  away
I look at all that’s near,as I’m still here.
I know now you’re too far away ,too far away, too far away ,my dear.
I know now that you’re too far away,oh dear.
How can I learn to live with love, not with fear,
As I go on ,now, down these coming  empty years?
So sad that you’re not near,not here,not here,my dear,my dear.
Shall I sometimes, in the night pretend,pretend,pretend,pretend,pretend,pretend  you  are
Oh,that heaven were not  so agonisingly .so wickedly too  far
So we  slide down the escape chute of the years,
Like children clutching close our teddy bears?
And we cross the ghost filled plains of  ancient wars
Which cover most of Europe with their scars.
How can I compare  my losing one I love
When screaming poppies  haunt  below , above?
When bones  of Jews tortured  to their  ground
Make the guilt of  Europe ever,ever  bind
When gypsies ,gays and  women big with child
Died unimagined deaths in a Europe  so defiled

The glory and the freshness of a dream.

W. Wordsworth
CCLXXXVII. Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
THERE was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
            To me did seem
        Apparell’d in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.          5
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—
        Turn wheresoe’er I may,
            By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.

I hear you brawling now at home


I fear you calling me back home
I hear you brawling now at home
I hear you calling from the foam
I feel blue crawling drunk at home
I hear you polished all the chrome
Oh,dear,he’s  been struck by  googled stones.
King Lear might fall for our new  home.
I hear you call Macbeth in’t gloam.
My gear’s not suited to their home.
I leered at all the men in Rome
I sneered at all his orphaned gnomes
A spear  would feel   unlike my phone

Stan makes the tea

Stan was cooking  tea that day,
While his wife went out to play.
He cooked a pie of frogs and cress,
He wanted  Mary to impress.
Stan was wearing his old clothes.
Where old clothes come from,no-one knows.
He meant to change when he was done,
So  they could have some fun.
But Anne his  mistress rang the bell,
Stan was so surprised he fell.
He hit his head upon the stove,
And his poor scalp turned blue and mauve.
Ring 999 and ask for Dave,
This man is old yet must be saved
The paramedic gave him glue
To stick together his old shoe.
Then he rubbed on arnica..
The head,oh horror, Guernica.
“Get the camera,take a pic.”
Stan was feeling rather sick.
“How can you use my wounds as art?
Rest assured I’ll take no part.”
He hit the camera with his stick,
And felled his mistress with a brick.
So now they’re in a mixed sex ward,
This experience can be shared.
They get their food at 3 am
Half for the ladies,half for the men.
The doctor asked them what went wrong.
Both of them had lost their tongues.
Neither  said what they had done!
Now their anger is all gone.
The moral of my myth is this:
Being unfaithful is not bliss.
Mistresses can be a pain,
Especially if they’re very vain.
And better not to look for love,
Except with cats or sweet white doves.
Let your neighbour love you less!
And don’t make comments on her dress.
As for voyeurs,keep a crutch.
Hit them hard, but not too much.
If they want a work of Art,
Tell them home is where to start.

Wild Geese

Leaves  fly off so suddenly
Small birds float on the wind
Like boats astride a choppy sea.
Their swaying soothes my mind.

Wild geese fly past at dusk again,
They head towards the North.
The holly berries glow in sun,
Nature  gives all birth.

I gaze intently at the sky,
The clouds hang dark and low.
If I  were  too a mere wild goose
I’d know which way to go

But I am left with only words
To find my destination.
Yet words do carry down to us
The wisdom  of   lost generations

We use old words in unique ways.
We structure them to form
A new design not seen before
A new sentence is born

I send my words with love to you
I hope you safely catch them.
Give me answers from your heart
And I’ll do my best to match them

Wits on the fiddle:

  • As cold as ducks’ bills
    As bold as no Will
    As told to my Phil.
    Was  tmould in my pills?
    Though old, he still kills
    Once cold,I was thrilled
  • img_20160928_163045
    It fit on her girdle
    Bite me for a giggle
    Writs on the table
    Lit up his dabbles
    He gifted his marbles
  • Without a prayer for the  world
    Without a hair, there’s no curl
    We doubt  hares can be hurled
    Without a pair of wives pearled
    So stout  yet she twirled.
    Such gout,he pre- paled
  • A diamond,it’s a laugh
    As rhyming ,it’s  enough
    We lined t’horses by ‘t trough
    Our Raymond ,he’s   tough
    He  wryly punned as a bluff
    Simon, what a puff!
  • Suave as a  python
    Waves on my timeline
    Grave as a  deacon
    Maeve’s on the beacon
    As brave as folk leaking
    Gave me  a tea can
  • Wake up,I am missing
    Get up,I need kissing
    Make up @We’re still  flossing
    Made cuff? from my knitting
    Stay top of the listings.
    My mop now needs washing
    As brave as  when dying

You know you are poor when



You put your ancient fridge in the garden and nobody steals it.
You can’t afford suncream  even when you’ve had skin cancer.Since you have to wear Factor 50 all the time,why is it not on prescription?
Ditto two standard lamps with no flexes but perfectly ok for anyone with good eyesight to fit a new flex but nobody has taken them .I may put the lamp shades out and see what happens
You wear your underpants inside out on the second thanks”
You only have a bath once a month
You  wash your smalls in the bath with you.
You sing while walking through the town and people throw money at you, except for a few who shout,go back where you came from..That gives me abig choice
You eat  on newspaper instead of a plate.Brown paper  will do as well.
You stop wearing underclothes altogether.Ony suitable for continent ladies with tiny bosoms
You can’t go out for coffee.
You can’t give people gifts
You can’t afford Xmas card and stamps

Beautiful colours embraced in the sky

  All that morning in  the bright  sun
 The leaves unfolded   one by  one
The birds sang sweet songs in the holly tree
I felt they were doing it just for me. 


In the evening as clouds rolled by
Beautiful colours  embraced in the sky
I stopped my tasks and chores to see
A whole new world created just for me

 As night came down with her navy blue sky
Outside my window ,I looked up high
I saw the shape of the pale glowing moon
And blackbirds were singing their heart-rending tunes                        


   As I looked up past the holly tree
  I knew the  whole world was created for me
And if you  take a long look up too
Remember the  whole world was created for you

Immense and silent is my empty heart

Inside me  is a gap where love once dwelt
Immense and silent ,swallowing all my hopes
A sorrow unacquainted aaks for help
To direct me how  to live, not merely cope.

I feel that  gripping  hand upon my heart
A sorrow in the belly’s pit beside
As he died my anguish made its start
Its   heavy desperation  pierced my side

While he lived I dwelled inside his shade
Protected  and   much loved I did not know
That every tree must fall  into  its glade
Destroying those who live there with its blows

Unprotected from the intense sun
I’ll burn  to ash  and  join my loved one

Has a brick ever fallen on your head,Father?


Pray Father,give me some washing.I’ve got some  Wikileaks and a new obsession.
Tell me more,my child.I am feeling bored.
I think someone has been inside my computer.
They can’t be human. so why worry?
Why not,Father?
Well, we are not thin enough to get into the computer.
Ah, they turn themselves into particles and come in with the current..
when it’s high tide.
Do you mean tied?
No,Father.I’ve not been reading that book.Fifty Blades All Gay
Neither have I but in the confessional I’ve heard it all and more.
And how does that make you feel,Father?
Why pay to read a fantasy when you can dream up your own?
Some are born dim… others become dimmer by choice
Well,any sins tonight,my dear?
I’m so sorry.I was planning to tell a lie but I forgot.
There’s a list of sins in the Missal…have you read those?
Yes,I’ve not tried most of them yet… though I just got a slight pang of anger
when a brick fell onto my head from a clear blue sky.
That’s natural anger,my child.but I feel it was odd for a brick to fall like that
Has a brick ever fallen on your head,Father.
Not yet but I’m only 97.I must buy a hard hat
Wow,you look much olde than 97 r.Are you longing to diet?
Why, is there no food in heaven?
I wonder who cooks if they eat up food
Maybe they live on manna.
Does God eat food?
That was one topic we never did in the cemetery.
Do you mean the seminary.
At my age, they are all one.
You have reached Nirvana….congratulations.
Well.I’d prefer a cup of tea.
You English!
What are you?
I’m a great Dane.
Did you say a grey Dane.
That too.
Well perk up;the show’s not quite over till the gnat really stings.
Do gnats eat string?
String… it’s my passion.Love it or mate it…get involved.
Live a little.
And for your penance… you must have a bath…
I don’t like the way you smell.
Well,I am a dog.. we like to sniff.May I borrow your hanky?
Definitely,I shall dry your tears for you and please try to commit few intriguing sins before you come back here.
I’ll wash it for you.And dry it out of doors
Well,it’s not over till that gnat gets its sting and the phone gets a ring

A bit of punctuated tyre

  1. img_0028
  2. Hope for the quest, but prepare for the  cursed”
    “Better bait that lever.”
    “Words  that are severed, block  the mind’s rivers”
    “Keep your friends clothes and your enemies hosiery.”
    “Don’t know why, don’t know , sigh.”

    “A picture  gives birth to arousing  words .”
    “There’s not much wing  in a free munch.”
    “There’s no face  at  home.”
    “Mixed ratios  are the greater part of colour.”
    “The  curly haired catch the allured.”
    “We have to  forsake the best of fillings”
    “Is there a doctor  on the   pounce?”
    “To be healthy ,see a vet”
    “See me foam, and fly” [note the comma]
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