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Tuesday, 27 January 2015

ONLY DROOLS & CORSETS - VALENTINE - LOVE SONGS

From Only Drools & Corsets (Funny poems and silly stuff about love, Valentine's, etc)

Only Drools & Corsets
TO LOOK INSIDE, PLEASE GO TO AMAZON FOR THE KINDLE VERSION......

FOR THE PAPERBACK, GO TO.....

Today's sample:

LOVE SONGS

Ob la di, ob la da,
shang a lang,
a wop bop a loo bop a wop bam boom,
Scaramouche, Scaramouche,
be bop a lula,
de do do do, de da da da,
do wah diddy diddy,
coo ca choo,
sha la la la lee,
da do run run.

Can I be any clearer, my darling?

Monday, 26 January 2015

ONLY DROOLS & CORSETS - VALENTINE - MISS UNDERSTOOD

From Only Drools & Corsets (Funny poems and silly stuff about love, Valentine's, etc)

Only Drools & Corsets
TO LOOK INSIDE, PLEASE GO TO AMAZON FOR THE KINDLE VERSION......

FOR THE PAPERBACK, GO TO.....

MISS UNDERSTOOD

She raised her hands
to strangle and throttle:
"So, you think I have
a face like a bottle?"

Oh no, my love,
'twas one of my quips,
you've a face that launched
a thousand ships."

Alas, alack, she stormed out of the room
and I walked the proverbial plank,
our love boat had sprung an embarrassing leak
and I watched as it tragically sank.

Friday, 23 January 2015

GRANNY'S SNUFF AND GRANDA'S STAMMER


GRANNY RACHEL

Granny would put two dots
of snuff on her left-hand thumb,
hankie ready in her right hand,
and with two rapid sniffs,
the brown dust disappeared,
inhaled, a satisfying fix
followed by a hefty nose blow.

In the years after World War Two,
when a generation had had enough,
people were entitled to enjoyment 
and for Rachel, my Granny Millar, 
it was two occasional dots of snuff.

GRANDA TOMMY

We didn't call him Grandfather or even Grandad. He was Granda, my mother's father. He was a small, slight man but with the work ethic and grit of somebody twice his size. I remember he did the annual wallpapering and decorating in our house, always with a cheery demeanour, the occasional whistle and, every now and then, a song to himself. He had a stammer, quite severe at times, but that made him all the more endearing. He would give opinions and tell stories, sometimes struggling with certain words that simply refused to roll off the tongue. But, and I recall this very clearly, at a family do, he sang the song Nellie Dean and it was beautiful, even to a young kid like me. When he sang this simple little tune, the stammer was dead. Instead, he had the sweet voice of a tenor, unforced and pitch-perfect. "There's an old mill by the stream, Nellie Dean," he sang and, you know, he looked happy and content, a small man but a great Granda. 

Thursday, 22 January 2015

DING DONG DUNG


From Only Drools & Corsets (Funny poems and silly stuff about love, Valentine's, etc)

Only Drools & Corsets
TO LOOK INSIDE, PLEASE GO TO AMAZON......




DING DONG DUNG

This farmer’s daughter was swayed and wooed
And said yes to a proposal of marriage.
Came the day of the wedding, she was all prepared
And off she was whisked in a carriage.

As the groom was waiting at the altar rail,
There came a whiff from the door,
As the bride approached, the smell got stronger,
An aroma you couldn’t ignore.

Said the groom to the bride: “Is that manure on your head?”,
Just as the bells were rung,
“Why yes,” said the farmer’s daughter,
 “I’ve just had my hair dung.”

Tuesday, 20 January 2015

SAID ELVIS TO THE BUTCHER - VALENTINE XXXX

In time for Valentine's Day, a little book of laughs and a few tender moments.

Kindle download link:


Soon in paperback here:

The Cover


Product Details



The Blurb

"Funny poems and silly stuff about love, Valentine's Day & beyond. I was trying to think of a snappy title for this little book. Last year, I published a Christmas amusement called Only Yules & Verses, a slight take on a famous television series title. So, I went back to the pun trough once again. It’s a quirky collection in need of a quirky title. There aren’t many drools in here nor nether-garments, knickers, nor swear words nor anything blatantly offensive – unless the word fart causes distress. Most of this book tries to be funny. The last several pages are a little more thoughtful. I hope you enjoy the selection and share it with those you love." 

A Sample:

UH HU HU

Said Elvis to the butcher:
“I think I’ve had enough,
With these mail order steaks,
They’re always mighty tough.”

Said the butcher in reply:
“Just return to sender
And I’ll make a mental note
that Elvis loves meat tender.”

Monday, 19 January 2015

HEY YOU! BITTER ABOUT LITTER

Just back from a long walk this morning and, once again, I'm apoplectic about litter. So, I've no qualms about repeating this.......



BITTER ABOUT LITTER


A while ago, I wrote this poem about litter:

Hey you,
Yes you,
You who tossed away
The carrier bag,
The cigarette end,
The leaflet,
The receipt,
The free newspaper,
The can,
The bottle,
The sausage roll wrapper,
Pick up your litter, scruff,
Or I’ll flush you
down the crapper.

I'm just back from a walk in a beautiful country park and I took a note of these items, discarded along the way:

crisp packet,
Aero chocolate wrapper
plastic water bottle
Coca-Cola bottle
coffee cup
leaflet
another Coca-Cola bottle
tissues
Polo mint wrapper
water bottle label
another water bottle label
yet another water bottle label
handkerchief
train ticket
J-cloth
receipt
chewing gun wrapper
plastic carrier bag
plastic bread bag
cellophane salad bag
chocolate eclair sweet wrapper

I refer you to the last three lines of the poem above.

Sunday, 18 January 2015

A POEM FOR BURNS NIGHT (25 JANUARY, 2015)


'Twas the month after Christmas and all through the house
,
Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.
The cookies I'd nibbled, the chocolate I'd taste, 
All the festive parties had gone to my waist.
When I got on the scales and saw my new weight
,
I began to regret the amounts on my plate.
I'd remember the marvellous meals we’d prepared,
The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rared,
The wine and the turkey, the bread and the cheese

And the way I'd never said, "No thank you, please."
So - away with the last of the sour cream dip,

Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip,
Every last bit of food that I like must be banished
,
'Til all the additional ounces have vanished.
I won't have the shortbread - not even a lick,
I'll want only to chew on a celery stick.
I won't have hot pancakes, potato bread, or pie,
I'll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.
I'm hungry, I'm lonesome, and life is a bore - 

But isn't that what January is for?
Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.
I say cheers to you all on your New Year diet.

But before all the calorie counting begins,
There is one last good meal to eat for our sins.
To have you all here is a joy and delight
As we celebrate Burns and eat haggis tonight.