I hoped that my phone would not scream

They said I should write  on my cell phone
But my   fountain pen leaked on the  screen
I pressed  rather gently
For fundament’lly
I hoped that my phone would not scream

I wrote on my palm with a pencil
While watching the 10 o’clock News
But the adrenalin rising
However surprising
Wetted the lead, losing clues.


I dictated my dreams to my Nokia
I knew quite well what to do
But  when I awoke
I saw dark grey smoke
And my husband  had turned denim blue.

How about an old fashioned notebook
With a ball point or biro to hand
It seems very easy
Makes nobody queasy
Gives my words some where to land