• Stan was wearing his best suit,topped by a denim apron, and wad polishing the big windows with a microfibre cloth ,as he waited breathlessly for his stunning wife
  .Mary entered the room wearing a long purple and mauve dress which clung somewhat tightly to the curvaceous contours of her beautifully rounded body.
  On her feet she had some smart pewter ballet slippers and in her elegant hand she carried a huge pewter clutch bag which contained some of her many medications.She addressed Stan,
  “I think I can leave my handbag behind if I put my mouth spray into my bra.”
  “That somehow detracts from the romance of the evening.” Stan pronounced openly.
  “Well,you know,I never had a cleavage until lately and I fell I ought to make the most of it.”
  “Surely I should be the one make the most of it,” he riposted jocosely.
  “Of course you may, my angel,but not in the restaurant,”she answered back sweetly
  “I’ll put your spray in my pocket then,shall I?”
  Suddenly the doorbell rang.
  ”Who’s this?”
  It was Annie,their next door neighbour.
  She was wearing a coral velvet track suit with matching Reeboks and sun hat.
  “Hi,I just came in with a little prezzie,”She declaimed.In her hand was a huge box of chocolates.
  “Gosh,Mary you look lovely in that beautiful long dress but you’re not
  going on your bike,are you?”
  “No,we are having a cab,but it’s not come as yet.”
  “Well,never mind.I’ll ring 999 and get them to send an emergency ambulance for you!”
  Fortunately,as luck would have it the minicab appeared and it was only as they were entering the restaurant that Stan realised he was still wearing his old denim apron.
  “Shall I take it off?” he pondered.
  On the pro side I will look smarter on the con side I might spill some soup down my front.I wish I’d done more logic at college.
  So he kept it on.Mary didn’t seem to notice.She just took him for granted.~
  If he stood on his head and sang”Jerusalem” she probably wouldn’t pay any attention.
  Then he noticed that Mary was wearing an apron too.It was the same colour as her dress.What a brilliant idea,he thought.
  “There may be money in this.” He could start a small business,
  “Aprons R You” selling lovely aprons in all colours of the rainbow.
  Suddenly he heard noises;he awoke and heard Mary shouting
  “How can you go to sleep when you are out with me?”
  “Would you prefer me to recite the Periodic Table?” he snapped gently.
  “I’d prefer a poem,” she cried…
  All right,Petal,I’ll think of one soon.In the meantime would you like a fool?”
  “No.I’ve got you,” she responded handsomely.
  “I mean for a pudding?”
  “Oh,yes please.A Rubik fool would be lovely.It will pass the time.You know I get so bored.”
  “Well,I do my best but it’s hard keeping up with you.would you like to read a few truth tables whilst I finish my mea.?”
  He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small leather bound book.
  “Truth tables and levitation for geniuses,” by Bertha Russell.
  “Oh,Stan,this looks interesting .I’ve always wanted to fly like an angel or an owl.”
  “It’s never too late to say never.” he responded.
  “Whatever do you mean?”
  “I don’t know.Just because a sentence is grammatically correct doesn’t imply that it means something.”
  “Yes, quite right.And conversely a sentence can mean something even when it’s not grammatically correct.”“Isn’t thinking exciting!”
  “Yes,indeed.I was thinking how exciting it will be to go to bed with you.”
  “Wow,good grammar and full of meaning.I am yours.I am like a ripe plum ready to drop off the tree.I am a cat ready to mate.I am a song waiting to be sung.”
  “Gosh,are metaphors your bete noir?”
  “Je ne parle pas Francais.”
  “Aimez vous ein Nederlander?”
  “Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
  Ist sein mutter immer krank?”
  Lehitraot, auf weidersehen,au revoir,
  Je suis un parallel line

Evoking the beauty, the stars so far away,
I like to watch geese at the end of day.
Patterns and poems disclose other worlds.
Feel the hand of a baby with the fingers all curled

See the trust and the smile when the mother is home,
To create entire worlds for the one she has borne.
For chaos and panic are not far away
Even in adults who don’t care to say.

The little hands touch me so deeply, so well;
How come the world is diving to hell?
How can we kill little wains by the score
Was it for this that I opened your door?

Was it for this that love electrified us,
And we were lost in each other, in the holy white dove.
Was it for war that we gave love our wombs
Making more soldiers and filling more tombs?

The bombs are a-loading they’re having parades.
It’s not North Korea, it’s Washington, dude.
Let the tanks roll on Corrie and the Bedouin tribes.
Let the allies laugh blindly as the Lord Jesus dies.

O take me, dear mother.Please take me away
I can’t see no point in saying my prayers.
The leaders’ religions are making God frown.
The desert is empty, the tents all dragged down.

The centuries of living so free , so mobile;
The holy land blessing as they pause for while.
The little black tents like wombs of the night
Are all gone to shredders as we sing, Silent Night.