Okay, it’s New Year’s Day and it’s time for some resolutions,
but I’ve given up making them, I just need some solutions.
I have absolutely no more room in my house for more “stuff”,
and I’ve tried to downsize, but obviously not hard enough.
So this year, I’ll throw away something every single day,
never mind how much I had to pay, or how I’d like it to stay.
As I didn’t use it, play it, wear it or eat it last year,
if I threw it away tomorrow, I should not shed a tear.
Tag Archives: Humour
Choughs
Did you know that I am an auntie to some choughs?
They live here at Cornwall’s Lizard, on these bluffs.
Their breeding nests are well guarded both night and day,
just in case marauding egg hunters come that way.
It is good to know that they are back at nightfall
safely nesting, where they belong in old Cornwall.
Downsizing
There they all are gathering dust,
so many memories of mine.
But let them go I really must.
I can do it, I will be fine.
I’ll have a go at the paper
that is piling up into hills.
It really will be a caper
to destroy those horrid old bills.
Then I will turn out my wardrobe,
clothes dating date back to eighty three.
They really have gone out of mode
and fitted a much smaller me.
Then there is my old bone china.
It suited me once I suppose,
but now I use some less finer,
I’ve gone off the old country rose.
We’ve been building and erecting,
while we let the family grow.
I’ve spent all my life collecting,
but now it’s time to let them go.
Those wasted years of spend, spend, spend!
I just cannot believe my eyes.
This gathering has all got to end.
It is time for me to downsize.
Fungus Invasion
This year has been damp and a good year for fungus,
some are small and pretty and some are humongous,
some crowd in circles around the base of our trees
and some decorate their trunks right up to their knees.
Some look quite cute, almost with friendly faces,
some dark and threatening, crowd in other places,
some look like phallic symbols, some like fairies’ hats,
some look like they should live with Dracular and bats.
Toadstools grow in circles but I have looked to see,
and there’s no sign that I can find of a fairy.
Mushrooms should be good this year, but I’m scared to try
any that I find in woods as I’m passing by.
We’ve been invaded this year with all sorts of spores,
they’re multiplying over the ground in their scores.
Ash trees have been struck with a fungus invasion,
spores from foreign woods have ruined England’s equation.
I feel like I’m living on another planet:
everywhere I go the grass is soggy and wet,
fungi cover the ground in woods everywhere
and I have to step all around them with great care.
I don’t want my dogs to catch a fungus disease,
just like the one that’s killing our native ash trees.
Ash tree die back report from the Telegraph
Heartbreak Recovery
Every night I lay awake ’til dawn,
I tried counting sheep right through ’til the morn.
Every day the tears fell down my cheeks,
every night the hours turned into weeks.
You told me good-bye that November week.
My heart froze at the words I heard you speak.
You told me that you had found another
and you wanted to live with your lover.
But every day my heart felt lighter.
and every day my soul felt brighter,
when I realised that you were no loss
and all you wanted was to be the boss.
Being independent, I can now choose
which dress to wear, and which pair of shoes;
what I should eat, and at what time of day,
and where I should go when I want to play.
No more do I have to watch sport on T.V.
cos I watch what I want now I am free.
I can watch soppy movies, and some soaps
and silly quiz programmes that boost our hopes.
I can lounge about in my dressing gown;
I can go with my girlfriends into town.
We can shop ’til we drop, and then some more;
we can window shop in every store.
I can chat on line with guys I might meet:
there’s plenty more who could sit in your seat.
Lots have already asked me to dinner.
I dine out each week, I’m on a winner!
So I’ve wiped my tears, and I’ll cry no more.
I’ll look forward to what I’ve got in store,
and you can go on with your humdrum life
with your new found family, and new wife!
Naughty Myschka
I’m so comfy up here I’m not going to move
until my mum comes along and gives me a shove.
Whenever she goes out of the room I’m up here
and I know she will shout, but I really don’t care!
I barked to say she was up on the chair,
as soon as you’d gone out she leapt up there.
But I’m lying here as good as can be
it’s Myschka who’s naughty this time, not me!
Frustrated Silver Surfer
I’m sitting at my desk again, trying hard not to cry,
waiting for my laptop to restart again so I
can find some amusement. And what’s the reason why?
’Cos I’m too old to go to work – no-one wants me any more,
so I’ve got to find some other things to fill my life, for sure,
’til God sends his disciples to come knocking on my door.
I’ve tried to read, but tiny printed words I cannot see.
I’ve walked my limping dogs, but that’s not far enough for me,
and my friends are all so busy, visiting their family.
I suppose I could read my pile of post, but that’s a chore.
Most of it is junk mail, or stuff I’ve had before.
I wonder why they still keep putting it through my door?
IT is a four letter word
Quill pens, ledgers – bring them all back,
throw away computers on a disused railway track.
Bury them deep and plant over lots of trees,
or take them to the bottom of the deepest seas!
I don’t think we were this stressed fifty years ago.
except when we couldn’t get through the driving snow.
So much information, how can one take it in?
and do we need it for our happiness within?
I remember when we had our first computers –
they were bigger than a pile of invalid scooters!
There was an army of personnel pumping info in,
and a forest load of trees spewed out, which ended in the bin.
‘A’ Level Blues
French! German! Geog!
Oh what a fog!
What do I suffer like this for?
It’s surely too much
for such
a dence
nut.
But…..
Inspiration
What is this thing called inspiration
that seems to obsess the whole of the nation?
Is it the dreams conjured up by the mind
or the opening of the heart to all mankind?
Why do we always continue to wait
’til insp’ration comes our mind to elate?
For what purpose is mankind inspired
except to relax those minds which are tired?
Ginge
There he lies again, soaking up the sun
on our kitchen window sill, with a flower vase by his bum!
He doesn’t belong here, he just comes and goes,
leaves his mark in the doorway – it’s my fault I ‘spose!
November
The clocks have gone back
and we’ve lost an hour at night.
We come home in the dark now
instead of the light.
The weather is grim,
it’s damp and it’s so dreary,
Continue reading
Windy dog walk
There’s a big storm a-brewing,
the fallen leaves are a-strewing.
The wind’s howling through the trees.
It’s more than a summer breeze.
Continue reading
Kennel Blues
I think I like it here, but I’m not sure why I’ve come,
it may be cos I was bad when I was out with Mum.
The kennel maids are very nice, they take me out to play,
they groom me, feed me, walk me and change my blanket every day.
Time you were home
It feels like you’ve been gone forever
I am sure you are long overdue.
I’m starting to think you will never
come home so that we can be with you.
My Ascot Hat
It was Ladies Day at Ascot, and I wore my Ascot hat,
it went with the posh outfit I bought to hide all of my fat
I said I would never wear it again, it’s just too silly,
and I really feel stupid looking oh so very frilly.
Scarecrow’s lament
“He’s not very smart,” I’ve heard them say
cos I’m dressed in rags, in an odd way,
but I’ve stood in this field ev’ry day.
Waving my arms in the summer breeze
I’ve stood in rain, til it’s made me sneeze
and I’ve nearly fallen to my knees.
Heatwave
August hols are here, and we’re hoping for some sun,
families have fled to foreign fields for some fun,
leaving us alone in our lovely Great Britain,
with half empty highways, and dull days in the rain.
Soon as they swanned off, the sun came out to play,
and it happened to get hotter here ev’ry day.
We hardly have rainfall ‘cept in a sudden storm,
during our heat wave, which we now know as the norm.
Dazzling dusty days spent in hot and humid heat,
as we walk our way to work down the stifling street.
Bodies barely breathe in our horrid hot office,
a faltering filtering fan just can’t suffice.
Olympic Blues
We went down to London for the day
although we didn’t have a ticket,
we thought we’d get one on the gate but
we didn’t bargain for the picket.
“No entry here without a ticket”
said the official with a scowl,
“Back to the highway you go forthwith”
as my friend and I stifled a growl.
London 2012 Opening Ceremony
Underworld – Caliban’s Dream Youtube video tells most of the story
of how Great Britain excelled herself this year in all her glory.
London Twenty Twelve opening ceremony went without a hitch,
unlike the early mix up of the Korean flags on Cardiff’s football pitch.
Two hundred and four countries entered their Olympic team
of hopeful young atheletes hoping to achieve their lifetime dream.
Never before has anyone witnessed such a magnificent scene
depicting Great Britain’s events in recent history that there have been.
Our Great British humour just had to take a big part
as James Bond helped our Queen “parachute” in for the start,
then as our music was played by orchestral string
our Mr Bean was on the piano, doing his thing.