You wrote me a letter last Sunday week,
and in it were words that I heard you speak
when we were alone that Saturday night,
and you left me there in such a plight.
Why did you go, won’t you come back? Continue reading →
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.
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.
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.
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.
Just now the lilacs aren’t in bloom
all before his little room,
and from his flower beds I think
have gone the carnation, and the pink,
and in his borders well I know
poppies and pansies no longer blow.
Grantchester, oh Grantchester!
There should be peace and quiet there.
Rupert Brooke would have a fit
if he went back to visit it. Continue reading →
A family of long-tailed tits have come to visit me,
they’ve been here all day in and out the Eucalyptus tree.
They’re eating all the old nuts and fat balls that I’ve put out
I’ve not seen them here before, so I guess without a doubt
they like what I’ve provided more than the usual seeds
that all the birds sort through and drop down to grow into weeds!