From the Chrysalis

This poem is all very serious, isn’t it? Sometimes that’s just how it is. Apologies. Normal silly service to resume shortly.

 

How brave must the caterpillar be

To crawl from its safe dark cave, and see

For the very first time its brilliant wings,

And watch the breeze which sighs and sings.

Then touch it, soft, with flimsy flaps,

And turn around. And then, perhaps,

Soar way up high in the unknown blue,

Leaving the life and the leaf it knew.

How brave must the caterpillar be,

How very brave,

To bear the weight

Of its freedom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rhino

Lee knows that I know

That he knows a rhino.

Though maybe that might be denied.

As the rhino that I know

No longer knows Lee. No;

Lee’s now in that rhino’s inside.

 

(But as for the rhino that Sue knows –

Who knows?)

Heavens Above!

A rare foray into the political here, but this came to me in the light of the Same-Sex Marriage bill currently going through the UK Parliament. It seems incredible that people might oppose anything that celebrates love.

Heavens above! Let’s get this straight:

We’re talking of love, not talking of hate.

You can’t define it,

Can’t consign it,

Put it in boxes,

Neatly confine it.

Diverse as the people who feel it and live it,

Who breathe it, who speak it, who cherish and give it.

Encompassing all as the world as wide;

A force, of course, that can’t be defied.

What’s the big problem here? Heavens above!

Please remember: we’re talking of love.

Watch What You Steal

Who took the book? Look, who took the book?

Yes, who took the book? Yes, who?

Was it Sid who did it, or that Harriet who hid it,

Or perhaps it could be Stephanie or Stu?

Who took the book? Look, who took the book?

Yes, who took the book? Let’s see.

I don’t know who would read the book, or even who would need the book,

As really it’s as lengthy as could be.

Who took the book? Look, who took the book?

Yes I think I’ll make a call to the police.

As somewhere there’s a seasoned crook (the one who took my favourite book)

Who’s sitting down and reading War and Peace.

 

 

 

 

 

Parents, Evening

It’s been a very long day,

A things all going wrong day,

A nothing going right day,

An everything not quite day,

And so, I think, a glass of wine

(Or maybe several) would be fine.

A chance to grumble, chance to grouch,

And watch TV all evening…

Ouch!

WHO PUT THAT LEGO ON THE COUCH?

It’s been a very long day.

A very,

Very,

Very,

Very,

Very,

Very,

Long

Day.

 

Fancies

Delilah does delicious dishes;

Delicate, delightful.

Although she gobs all over them

And so they’re really frightful.

Learning to Fly

I can fly! I can fly!

Come and see, by and by

As I soar through the sky

With my wings open wide,

Watch me swoop! Watch me glide!

Come aboard, take a ride!

I can fly! I can fly!

Come and see, by and by.

But for now I’ll just try.

Jump

.

.

.

.

Thump

I can fly, I can really!

I can!

Very nearly.

 

 

Eclair

If I just stare at a chocolate éclair,

It’s ever so, ever so weird.

I sit on my chair and one moment it’s there,

The next one it’s quite disappeared.

Wherever it goes, nobody knows,

But each time it happens I’ve found

That I get specks of cream on the end of my nose

And my tum grows mysteriously round.

Why Publishers Matter

An awful author wrot a book

I don’t suppose u’ve read it?

He dashed it off in too days flat

And then forgot to eddit.

 

Print book sales are in decline;

Just watch those figures dwindle.

But this book costs just two pounds nine,

So shove it up your Kindle.

 

With apologies to the many very good self-published-to-Kindle authors out there