Most sensuous, most tangled with love’s grace

Could it be despair  that held me tight

in the wintry evening and the night

I could not see a way to  carry on

Everything  was wrong and I was done

I saw great blackness all around myself

I could not be restored, I had no health

I   had reached the end of seeking aid

God alone  knew all the coins were paid

  Inexplicable, the  golden light

That made a sweet shawl round me on that night

Impressing me with kindness and goodwill

Holding me until I had had my fill

Most sensuous, most tangled with love’s  grace

Surrounding me,  protecting my lost face

As if the arms of love were something real

That anyone  who knew this  must reveal

Only when we reach the very end

May the force of love on  us descend

i

 

May the force of love on  us descend

I hated once but that is not an end

I meant to write a poem of revenge
To hurt the one who shot out glacial words
I knew how to begin but how to end?

Through the Oxford. my sharp eyes had lunged
My vile emotions then were further stirred
I meant to write a poem of revenge

First he wooed me , showed his cultured friends
Sweet the words and soft the voice I heard
I knew how to begin but how to end?

Would retaliation my heart rend?
Down the vultures rushed ,carnivorous birds
As he wooed me with the words he wrung

My arm was disengaged by unseen hand
I could not write, impossible cruel words
I meant to write a poem of revenge

Lady of Macbeth, who’d wash in blood
When evil can be overcome by good?
I meant to write a poem of revenge
I hated once but
Good controlled my hand

If you laugh for an hour use your elbow

Doctor,I think I have got dire beasties.
I’m not a vet.


Is laughter infectious?
Yes, self isolate immediately


Can you take a joke?
It depends where I am going
You can’t take it with you.
I’ll have to send it on my horse.

Have you made a will?
Yes, he’s 46 this year


I don’t know how you got a degree.
I bought one like everybody else

You are a very special person
Thank you.
You are the least intelligent person I know
And how many do you know?
One.
Is that a tautology?
Don’t ask me,i’m stupider than thou.
Who is Thou?
No, how art thou.
Why bring Art into it?
Is it bad?
What,art?
Plato thought so
But he’s dead