I'm feeding from a bottle now But can't suck hard upon it Cos mummy says that if I do I'll very quickly vomit. That dummy thing is not like mum And nowhere near as good. It's not as warm and comforting But what the heck...it's food!	Stimulate Then hesitate Contemplate Anticipate Participate And satiate	Why the comment? Why the fuss? Look....Volkswagen Microbus! Loyal, dedicated fans Love those German peoples' vans.
	In a canoe On the canal Nothing to do Oh how banal Watching a duck Having a quack I'm getting bored Better head back	People born thin Can eat on a whim. The rest who indulge Will most surely bulge Those who refrain Will slim down again But don't hesitate You'll slow down the rate
Grandad what's that funny stuff That's growing round your chin? Why is there so much of it here When on your head it's thin? Shouldn't it be all one shade And not brown black or grey? Did you borrow mum's hair dye Or were you born that way? Although it's fun to poke and tug Which makes you pull a face It doesn't seem quite right to me It's somehow out of place So when you say when I grow up I'll have a beard maybe I think I'll stay just as I am And be a smooth chinned baby.	Another soldier died today A gun or bomb blew him away.   Who cares which one, it's still the same. A parent's loss, a widow's pain.   And from the safety of his seat The Premier rises to this feet   And lists the names of those who died But not the names of those who cried.   A pointless list, a hopeless fight, No end of tunnel shining light.   For when we quit this Afghan war They'll go back as they were before.	I wish that I could figure out Those squiggles you call 'word'. Feel confident and normal, Instead of plain absurd. Write letters and devour books The way my children can. Stop being so inadequate And feel more like a man. Read through the Daily Telegraph, Though what I'm often told, Its tells of global suffering, Of hunger and of cold. At least I know my family Can sleep in safe warm beds. Eat well and drink clean water. A roof above their heads. Illiterate? It could be worse. We could be poor and dying. But one day I will learn to read, I'll never give up trying.
My wife and I have children We have two lovely girls. One fair, one dark, both wavy haired, Bright eyes, pink cheeks and curls.   We wanted two, we stopped at two. Then thought we’d have a pause. It’s not we didn’t want some more It’s just we’d found the cause.   My male friends thought that I should Try to conjure up some boys. But lads have muddy football kit And girls make much less noise.   Yes sure they’ve had their challenges. Their moods, their fads, their swings. The ‘you’re not going out like That in way too skimpy things’.   In hindsight I suppose we could Have given them two brothers. But they grew up and I grew old And gained two extra mothers.   "Now father are you eating well." And "father you’re too fat". And "father you should exercise". And "father this and that".   But though I think I might have Liked to have a little laddy, Our daughters make us very proud. I’m such a lucky Daddy.	To My Wife When I think of you  I see a white top and green trousers. When I think of you I see chicken legs burnt from distraction When I think of you I see the bride I winked at in church When I think of you I see two babies born and tears of joy When I think of you I see my family and my centre When I think of you I see pride for my wife and children When I think of you I see support through adversity When I think of you I see sharing good times and bad When I think of you I see achievement not possible without you When I think of you I see a house made into a home When I think of you I see a look and a touch of love When I think of you I see no life without you When I think of you I see a life of plastic bags that hang on the wall of my heart.	I, I, I've  Got Parkinsons A terrible condition. No hope of ease or miracle cure, No hope of a remission   My mind is paste, My swallow's gone, I cannot walk or stand. I cannot hold a damn thing still In what was once my hand   My speech is slurred, And other bits Won't do as they are told. I get depressed although I know It's part of getting old.   I, I, I've got Parkinsons Each day just seems so long When sight is poor,  My thoughts are blurred, And words come out all wrong.   So curse you God For dealing me This hell that stunts and falters. But thank you God for family love And sons and wives and daughters.   For though you've gone And stolen off My thoughts, my life, my freedom, At least I know my family Will rally when I need them.
Stages of Life Child Wild Styled Mild Filed	Dark blue suit And mini skirted First a smile And then we flirted Best of friends Turned into lovers Lives entwined Beyond all others	Love you Miss you Hug you Kiss you In my dreams.
I'm tubby, cuddly, slightly round, Size eight petite I'm not. I've ample cladding round my bum And plenty more on top. I've used all kinds of clubs and diets To try and shift my weight. I've jogged, I've run, I've exercised My fat won't dissipate. I almost drowned on protein drinks And then became a 'Carby'. My ample inches stayed in place. I'll never be a Barbie. At least my ribs won't bruise the man Who snuggles up beside me. I'm warm and soft and cuddlesome With chocs and cakes to guide me!	I wandered through the waving grass, Slid down the slope and then did pass A cleft that felt so soft beneath My feet as I slid underneath. Then curving slope which let me ride A pass with mountains either side. And next a plain which slowly dipped To bushes where I ran and skipped. I saw a cave, a wondrous sight Where soon I knew I'd spend the night. But now upon a ridge I strode Up slopes, round knolls, this curving road. I climbed a hill and looked between Small mounts to sights I'd never seen. Then hopped across and found the same, Retraced my steps to whence I came. I found that cave, so warm, so deep And satisfied I fell asleep. This place to which I love to roam Will ever be my special home.	Designer labels walking by. It wasn't you. Tube born teeth and practiced smiles. It wasn't you. Conditioned curls on long smooth necks. It wasn't you. Gee you sound nice, that accent's cool. It wasn't you. Tinselled Santa, children laughing. It wasn't you. A sun jewelled fountain sparkling. It wasn't you. Blue skies, green hills, peace embracing warmth. And there you were.
From an idea by my daughter   Oh dear what can the matter be, Mummy tried to blend her anatomy, Finely sliced her finger, oh deary me, Manicured beef stew again.   The red blood was flowing It dripped on the draining board Over the work tops And down on the floor it poured. Feast for a vampire A corpuscle smorgasbord. Mummy’s poor finger, poor nail.	I mither and carp My language is sharp I always bitch, moan and complain. On bright sunny days You'll find I always Look skyward in search of some rain.   You think life is good? Then really you should Look out at the world through my eyes. The government's crap There's leaves on the track And taxes do nothing but rise.   Roads grid locked and jammed My email is spammed I live my life under a cloud I’m down, wear a frown I’m the pooper in town Oh my I’m so richly endowed!	I'm happy to be short you know, I'm happy to be small. I'm happy to be near the ground, It's not so far to fall. I'm happy with my low down birth, I'm happy I was chosen. I'm happy far below the clouds And nowhere near the ozone. I'm happy that my legs are short, I'm happy and what's more I'm happy I don't have to bend When I pass through a door. I'm happy I'm below the beams, I'm happy, no discussion, I'm happy I can't bang my head And give myself concussion. I'm happy short, unhappy long I'm happy, no surprise. I'm happy, satisfied, content. I'm happy with my size.
Shoulders broad And waist so trim He made me laugh I married him I love my spouse He loves his wife We share our house We share our life	Kissing someone With the flu Guarantees you'll Get it too.	Next time you're quivering in the chair, And high pitched whine commences, Your ears curl up for minutes but... It's all day for the dentist.
Foils lighting minds As paper flips For pens and words That slant across In paper thoughts, That part the air To fill the room With insights deep That set our plans Adrift like wispy Clouds above the Hills and vales of Life's uncertain Paths that open Up the way to Reach the points on Charts and graphs as Statements signpost Isolated tracks To miss the crowds And reach our end The targets, goals That sit up on The screen in foils.	The sun descends In Half Moon Bay As birds sing out Their last goodnight That orb so warm Is soon to die And leave a night Of dark and cold I stand alone As sunset blurs In tears of grief And fond farewell My lantern home A childhood blessed My mum, her love Warm memories	I have, I've seen a RajMobile A smooth and stylish car. The kind owned by a millionaire Or famous movie star. A shiny soft top work of art A golden driver's dream That glides along the motorway Like flowing double cream. A swoosh, a purr, it passes by A gentle gust of air. Who sits behind the driving wheel With long black flowing hair? A famous posh celebrity? A Mona Lisa twin? A paragon of pulchritude? Oh darn, it's just Raj Singh.
More precious than diamond And finer than pearl. My very own, Special own Wonderful girl.	I love you, I love you. I love you, it's true. I cannot deny it, I love you,  I do. I love you no matter How far we're apart. I love you because you're The beat of my heart.	Poor bidet now Just sits and glowers, Ditched in France By daily showers. But whether here Or sadly not, The bidet Will not be forgot.
My holiday is almost done A nine week summer's rest. Next week I'm going back to school And feeling quite depressed. It's not that I don't like my job (A departmental head) Or want to pass my time at home With chocs and books in bed. It's not the staff (a perfect team), The children a delight. It's not demanding parents Or the Bursar's oversight. It's just that I like time alone To stitch and sew all day. To patchwork and embroider, And from time to time just play. So lottery please help me To make my life complete To start retirement early and Not go to school next week.	No more rabbits, Dogs or cats, Rats or hamster Habitats. Done with fish bowls, Feed and vets. Got the tee shirt, No more pets!	Late again On the train In the rain On the plain Metal lane Mobile pain Signal bane Frazzled brain I'm insane On the wane Late again In the rain On the train.
	Though grey of hair and failing sight I've given up on Fahrenheit. Whilst Euros I will still evade, I've moved across to Centigrade. Where zero's cold, and fifty's hot, And hundred's where I boil my pot. So come on chaps and follow me, It's just a matter of degree.
A lady from Spain, Barcelona Came to sell her hotel for the owner. She presented her case With a flourish and pace And the hope that the client will phone 'er.	If there is a wish that is special to you, Pop into the basket and make it come true If you have a worry, then tuck it away. Enjoy everything that you wish for today.	The python who swallowed a croc Had promptly expired with shock. When the vets took a look They found Captain Hook, Peter Pan, Tinkerbell and a clock.
Though the rose may Sway and brown at edge; And petals fall when Winter's cold bites down. Yet is the stem still Strong, and thorns so sharp, Keep ill marauders from The tip where buds of Future bloom lay still, Awaiting spring and warm Rebirth to once again Revive the rose of love	Here, take some advice That I once learned from. Too low to ask questions? Too high to respond? Am I never right? Am I always wrong? My problems too daft? My queries too long? The answer is no, You'll not waste my time. Sit down and relax. Now what's on your mind?	A breeze blown spring leaf, And a butterfly's wings, My fluttering heart. Is how my love sings.   The typhoon's great power The sun's blinding heat Is just what I feel Whenever we meet.
(SR = Service Request for help) An SR from Anwar Leong After logging went terribly wrong. She raised the request And support did its best. But somehow the fix took too long.	I once tried to write a love sonnet, Took a blank page with nothing upon it. The first line was terse, The second was worse. The third and the fourth were sardonic.	Forgotten times Forgotten pleasure Forgotten fun Forgotten leisure Forgotten when Forgotten after Forgotten how Forgotten laughter
Said an octogenarian from Deekly, "My teen sex was done rather meekly, As a youth, twice a day, Though I really must say, That these days I try only weakly."	Once upon a summer's day A great big cloud got in the way. The great north wind blew it away. Once upon a summer's day.	There was a thin lady of Kent Whose humour was awfully bent. One day for a laugh She dived in the bath. Straight down the plug hole she went!
The wheel of life goes round and round, A wheel of noise and raucous sound. A wheel that's smooth, A wheel that's rough. It wonders if it's had enough. It squeaks, it groans, for all to hear. But keeps on turning year in year. It cannot stop There is no brake. It cannot stop, too much at stake. So the wheel of life goes on and on. A new day comes and then it's gone. A misty veil Surrounds us now. Do we fight or do we bow? That veil of hate surrounds the world. Like a snake around us coiled. Destroy it now Or it will kill. And the wheel of life will stop, be still.	Dear Sir. I've just read your advert And apply for the post. I'm best for the job Cos I'm really the most. I'm brilliant and groovy, The best of all things. I think I'm an angel But I haven't got wings. I dress well and snappy, A real smooth guy. I want a good wage But the price isn't high, If you think of my talents, My skills and exams. I mean what I say, Don't believe in big shams. So send me a letter To say I'm employed. Signed Timothy Frederick Pinkington-Floyd.	Don't want to be an engineer, Don't know what I am doing here. A brain surgeon I want to be, Get out of here and be real free. I'll go to Notlob on a train And never come back here again. I'll maybe join the lumberjacks, And deftly wield my heavy axe. I'll work all day and sleep all night. Lordy, Lordy I see the light! Don't want to be an engineer, So what the hell am I doing here?
Take a good look at the house on the hill, Husband and mortgage, the wife's on the pill. Two kids and a house, a fridge and a car. A good steady job, yes he should go far. Nine till five working, the same old routine. Don't know where he's going, Just knows where he's been. They've no real future, they merely exist. A name and a number, just one on a list. I look at myself, and the life that I've led. If I were like them I'd be better off dead.	Age, agere, egi, actum. Take the train to sunny Clacton. See the junction, see the trains. Take a mac in case it rains. Tour the platforms, see the signs. Count the sleepers on the lines. Soup it up, be live and hail. Groove it man with British Rail.	Poems, poems, Poems, poems. Poems, poems, poems. Poems, poems, Poems, poems. Poems, poems, poems.
The sun shone through my window And woke me up this morning. I saw the sky, a radiant blue. Another day was dawning. I heard the crystal song of birds, The rustling of the trees. The whisper of a gentle wind. I thank the Lord for these. This world we have, so big and wide. The air, the land, the sea. A marvellous creation, It's there for you and me. In seven days He made this world, He made us every one. So brothers, sisters do your thing. Enjoy life, have some fun. Life is fun if you know how to enjoy it.	Goo yam, goo yam, Goo yam tree. What a sight to spoddle me! Grumming twiggies everywhere, Yuggle flowers for your hair. Poggle, poggle goo yam tree, Branches grow, no less than three. Loofy sproutings off the bends, Harky barky height transcends. High fly top of goo yam tree, Spoddle, spoddle, spoddle me! Gurgy rumplings, purple, blue, Yellow, pink and glittering hue. Overwhelming goo yam tree. Goo yam, goo yam, poggle me!	(USA Bi-centennial) We hear 'tis time of great elation, Something 'bout a celebration. Two centuries of independence, Crikey, that is quite a sentence. Quite some time, admit we must, Since our red coats bit the dust. To let you go, it made us sad. Think of all the wealth we'd had. Gold and oil and Davy Crockett, We'd even have our own moon rocket. Still I guess we will survive, Though our pound just took a dive. Here's to Anglo/States relations. Closer links between our nations. From all us Brits we'd like to say, Happy bi-centennial day.
The sun so radiant in its flight. The stars the jewels of the night. The moon a bright and silvery hue. They're all so dull compared to you.	It is thought upside down is so strange, An experience known to derange. But to walk on the ceiling Is a marvellous feeling. Let's walk on the walls for a change.	The limerick I write quite a bit. They're good fun and so full of fine wit. But some folks you see, Just cannot agree, And say they're a load of old rubbish.
(To British Rail - When it was....) To them this verse I dedicate, Especially Euston's ten to eight. That lightning train that as a rule Arrives at Lime Street, Liverpool. It should arrive about ten thirty, When it's late we all get shirty. British Rail hopes this experience Does not cause us inconvenience. But perhaps I do malign, Though going late, they leave on time. Another thing that bothers me Is breakfast, what a sight to see! A greasy rasher, gooey egg, Mounted on some cold fried bread. Pebble 'tatoes, mushrooms black, Squashed tomatoes at the back. All this first thing in the morning, Thrust upon you without warning. Poor old tummy, do not frown, There's cold tea to wash it down. Toast as well to help you settle, Brown burned edges, hard as metal. The charge for this exceeds all bounds, With VAT it's past ten pounds. Charging this they make a profit? No British Rail make losses of it! Inter city railway trains, Speeding quickly down the drains. Late arrivals, breakfast goo. Fancy prices, high fares too. When Liverpool I come again, I'm flying on an aeroplane. A railway carriage may be bigger, But aircraft are a darn sight quicker! (And you get a decent breakfast)	Compressor rotors turning round, Crikey whata deafening sound. Testing, testing night and day, Draw the curves - yes that's okay. Mixed in with the test bed roar, The crackling of the welding rod, Joining pipes in shapes so odd. The clang of wrench on metal jig, Spanners turn on nuts so big. Closing casings good and tight, Do a seal test, check it's right. Now the turbine, fit the cone, The discs of blades so finely hone. On a skid the whole thing sits. Here's the engine, hope it fits. Where's the plenum, where's the plate? Set the piping, then we wait. Now the exhaust fitted on, Makes the unit whole, as one. Fit the pumps, fit the pipes, Fit the valves, so many types. Get the panel, do the wiring, Soon be ready for the firing. Push the button, hear it start, Noises come from every part. Compressor now in noise emission Finds it has some competition! Do a run, and do the tests, Do the shutdowns, do the checks. Turbine, casing, cleared of quirks, Now can safely leave the works. For unit A the work is done, Now we make another one. Make the drawings to design, Engineering all the time. Get the parts put into store, Then back again to factory floor. Just like that.	I don't understand This world as a whole. Why so many people Just don't have a soul. The greedy, the selfish, The ones I don't like. That go roaring by While I'm riding my bike. I reckon it's stupid Cos life isn't long. They miss all the best bits As they race along. Do squirrels vote Labour? Do birds in their nests East crunchy munch cereal Because it's the best? Do they go round killing Their neighbours next door, As people go killing When they go to war? Do rabbits fight hares Cos their ears are too long? Or cuckoos kill black birds Cos their species is wrong? Yes lions eat zebras, And eagles eat mice. That's killing for food Just as we eat our rice. Not killing for hatred, Not killing for spite, Not killing for politics, Not black against white. Not greedy, not grabbing, Not get all you can. Not blow up your neighbour, Not kill fellow man. We all share this world, This globe as a whole. So why can't its people Develop a soul? Please.
A tubby young lady from Dorset One day got stuck in her corset. Said her husband,"Take care, Or you'll find it will tear. So ease yourself in, and don't force it."	Said a lady, Miss Eleanor Lumpet, "Though I don't like to blow my own trumpet, The lads think I'm fair, They all stop and stare, And say I'm a nice piece of crumpet!"	Said a rather thin lady of Gooseham, "Though I've knickers I really can't use 'em. Cos I'm skinny, not round, And they keep falling down, And give me cold cheeks when I lose 'em."
Isn't it odd  When someone we knew, A person once close  And important to you. One you were fond of,  Whose name once rang bells No longer so close  And has found someone else. And though you're committed,  In love with your spouse, Although you are married  With a wife and a house, To part from your friend,  And the closeness you had A little disheartening And certainly sad. So note all you people  Who think you may part. Do cherish your friendships  And thoughts of the heart. For the face that you knew  May become just a name, Although sweet are memories,  They're just not the same.	Poor old crazy Uncle Bill Thought he would go on the pill. The idea was from its inception To prevent a misconception. Family thought that he was mad, Worst idea he'd ever had. Bill get pregnant? That was dumb! He's a dad, he can't be mum! But in spite of Bill's precaution He got pregnant! What a  caution! Some months later in a whirl Bore a bouncing baby girl. Bill and baby's doing fine. Said Bill,"I think in one year's time, If all goes well I'll have another. Perhaps a boy to be her brother." You cannot tell him, try you might, That this was just an over sight. Mother Nature playing dumb, Not meant for Dad, 'twere meant for Mum! A tiny error, minor err, That got it switched from him to her. But Uncle Bill just won't be told, He's trying again so I am told. No luck yet, he's really peeved That he hasn't yet conceived. But I've noticed Aunt of late Has started putting on some weight. Because in spite of Uncle Bill, Auntie isn't on the pill. What's the betting? All agree? Time will tell, you wait and see.	I had a thought the other day. I sat and wondered why God made the rain all soggy wet, And not all warm and dry. I'm sure he wants our world to be Much nicer than old hell is. To not have rain drip down our necks And plop into our wellies. But having thought some more you know, I'm now prepared to bet, Rain started out a pleasant thing, Just later got all wet. God first invented rain quite dry And then he set it free. It fell into the rivers Then ran into the sea. I think that's when it happened, And here we find the key, When first it rose and made the clouds, It took some of the sea! No longer desiccated rain, God's wisdom, though infinite, Forgot when rain and seaside mixed He'd get some water in it! So next time when umbrella's raised, Don't blame it on the rain. It's just the water makes it wet. I think that makes it plain?
Thoughts of legs, and thought of toses; Thoughts of hands, and thoughts of noses. Thoughts of faces, thoughts of fingers; Thoughts of voices, thoughts of singers. Thoughts of thoughts, and thoughts of mind. Think of all the thoughts you'd find.	Birthdays come but once a year, Though if our world changed up a gear And twice as fast it then revolved We would all get twice as old.	An acquaintance of mine called Victoria Had a sister whose name was Miss Gloria. She was clever and witty, And ever so pretty. Had the men is a state of euphoria.
I'm sitting on a train right now, Looking out the window. How many people do you think Are busy playing bingo?	I saw a dairy cow today, 'Twas chomping on its food. I asked it to come out to play. It wasn't in the mooooed.	(A Budding Hypochondriac) Pardon my sneeze And the subsequent wheeze, There's a blockage abroad in my nose. A cold or the flu, And hay fever too. Or some germs - yes I have lots of those.
I like to write  A silly rhyme. I like to write  It all the time.	I hope the scientist resolves Why the sun one way revolves. It don't reverse, I think that's strange. It don't go backwards for a change.	I saw a little butterfly a sitting on a shelf. I felt so sorry for it, 'twere sitting by itself. I thought I'd keep it company. Hello I thought I'd say. But as I went up to it, it upped and flew away.
For A Friend Who Had Prostate Cancer My manhood isn't working and I'm feeling rather soppy. Instead of firm and round and hard It's small and soft and floppy. I had an operation and That damaged both the nerves. It left me quite incapable Which nobody deserves. They said "it's temporary" They tried to calm my fears. "You'll soon be up and running in Six months, perhaps three years." Until then I am half a man. A stallion who's been 'done'. Some meat, two veg and soggy peas. Small portions just for one. For now I'll keep my fingers crossed And pray for that erection That once more lets me give my wife Some intimate affection.	Nuclear is the cleanest way. So our politicians say. Windmills are an ugly blot. And wave power costs an awful lot. Forgetting in their naive haste The matter of atomic waste. That's buried in old mines beneath. A subterranean mourning wreath For those who died in nuclear trouble Three Mile Island, poor Chernobyl. Alpha, beta, gamma knife A silent death, a long half life. Seven hundred million years You've ample time to shed your tears. So nuclear power's no solution. Coal fired stations cause pollution. Wind and wave's the safest path. Let mother nature warm your hearth.	My poor old Mini, sad to tell it. Got so old I had to sell it. So for my next this 'Mini man' Went and bought a new Dyane. Not by guess I bought the car, It's reputation has gone far. No longer made of corrugation. Comfy seats, more presentation. The 2CV my dad once knew Has grown sophisticated too. Sliding windows for fresh air, A big back door, more room to spare. The headlamps set in long sleek wings. And when at speed our Dyane sings. It's got a nippy engine too. In London traffic, gets me through. So if a red Dyane you see, Avast, beware, it will be me. A whine, a swoosh, a mighty bound. Driving at the speed of sound!
Not long now, indeed quite soon, It will be Christmas day. I send you seasons greetings, But have one thing to say. Before you eat your turkey There's something you should do. Send our Lord your grateful thanks, And happy birthday too.	The charm and the grace Of a lovely lady. A smile on the face  Of a lovely lady. A kiss from the lips Of a lovely lady. Ask no more than this Of a lovely lady.	Estate agent fish find a plaice for us. Budgie fish fall off their perches. Playboy fish have a whale of a time. Musical fish like Julian Bream. Penniless dolphins have no cents or porpoise. Catfish rock fans like Elvers Presley. Lazy lobsters hail a crab. Octopuses will always lend you a squid until Friday. Atheist fish don't believe in Cod. Religious fish preach the Sunday Salmon. Hippy fish like rock and sole. Cobbler fish sole and eel everything.
Any fool can write a poem, Verses, odes, and rhymes - we'll show 'em!	I have a wife, a lovely girl. Our daughters she has carried. I get a lot of love from them. It's smashing being married.	What are my views on Pam Ayres? She writes poems with flourish and flairs. She puts pen to paper In linguistic caper. Yes, those are my views on Pam Ayres.
Noses are for breathing with, And sometimes for 'aaaatishhhoooo'. But wiping them with hands and arms  Is quite another issue.	Said the groom on the night they got wed, To his bride in their nuptual bed. "Excuse me for searching, But are you a virgin?" "Of course Sid, er Bert, I mean Fred."	(To My Wife) Because you keep my tummy full. Because you heed my children's call. Because of all the times you've cared. Because of all the things we've shared. I love you.
Yesterday - Heroes Today - Remembered Tomorrow - Forgotten	Death played  Its tune Too young Too soon	In war there's no glory. In war there's no gain In war there's just suffering. In war, death and pain.
I create I live. I stop I die	Once upon an evening clear, Down the pub a drinking beer, I was feeling pretty sober, I was wrong cos I fell over.	To each the count of his possessions. To each the pride of his achievements. To each the love of his devoted. To each his measure of existence.
"Cattle," he boldy averred, "Should only be scene, and not herd."	Jewelled sparkling sea, Moon bright above.  Dream future dreams. Lovers lost in love.	(The Book of Life) Plot by God Grammar by Nature Syntax by Culture Words from the prayers of the people
Believe in your Product Believe in your Company Believe in yourself	There is no such thing as a silly question There is no such thing as a trivial problem No person is too high to help Or too low to ask	If you're looking too high And feeling the pain Then lower your sights To reality again.
Don't follow me I may be following you	Do not ask How the sun works. Just enjoy The summer's day.	When climbing the ladder of life Count only the steps you have taken Not how high you have become.
Loving one Is great fun. Loving two You will rue.	Though the sun be far away, It still shines, And is warm to those Who seek it.	(Winter) In youth You see it. Old age  You feel it.
Air full of steam But the room was empty. Heart full of love But no one to hold. My thoughts with you But I was alone. And the water dripped On the tiles below.	Home is Where my soul is Where my heart is Where my whole is Home is Where my wife is Where our love is Where our life is	My submission to the BBC Limerick page On Friday it's Children in Need On Saturday G8, oil and greed. On Sunday do nowt On Monday it's drout. On Tuesday there's none left to feed.
Where are you mouse Of claws a scamper, Whiskers twitching, Eyes a shining? Where do you go? Which field you cross? And hedge you cower From owls and hawks? Where is your home? Wherein your brood? Which secret place Hides rodent peace?	(On The M25) Today is my Friday. It's only Thursday but I'm on hols tomorrow. So today is my Friday. A lady on the radio Talks of children Dying young as Junction seventeen goes by. And my eyes fill with Tears, and my windscreen Cries with the rain As I drive home on my Friday	"Moan, I'm forty," said Fred, yet again, "I am old, woe is me, what a pain." Said the Smiths, "You're pathetic, We prescribe anaesthetic. Try Codorniu Vintage Champagne." Down the medicine bubbled and swirled. On Fred's lips a strange smile unfurled. Fred restored, full of fun, Said, "I feel like a pun!" "Oh my God," said the Smiths, "Sorry world!"
(A Grace) As we start a fresh new year Let us all assembled here Hope world leaders will at least Give us all a bit more peace.	All das essen Ich muststoppen Fur mein buttons Sint all poppen	With food arranged We lick our lips And contemplate Tomorrow's hips.
(Another Grace) Food on the table, A roof and a bed. No persecution, No torture, no dread. Clean water to drink, Disease held at bay. May all here assembled Give thanks for this day	Last night I gave a job talk. Learned a poem for a stunt. Half way through Forgot my lines I didn't half feel a fool.	If flavour fine Or strong entices Go explore Exotic spices.
Just as the wick Made a home for the wax, So must the wax melt To sustain the flame.	Though others split And others part, I will not act To break your heart.	Where is my love? His heart cried loud. Now he knows how it feels To be alone in the crowd.
(PDA) Dee dell dee dell One more task off your list. Dee dell dee dell One less hour; get the gist? Dee dell dee dell One less day in your life. Dee dell dee dell A mortality knife.	Roses are red Violets are blue The web is world wide Like my love for you	John Thaw Is no more He was Morse of course
Text a smile Text one back Text a date Text some more Text of love Text propose Text accept Text I do Text us two Text a while Text a child Text a smile	Poor old Basil Camel Didn't have a hump. Not a wrinkle, not a hill. Not a single bump. Poor Basil got so very sad, He wasn't like the others. He wasn't like his sisters, And he wasn't like his brothers. Then suddenly it hit him, He cried,"Of course! Of course! I'm not a no humped camel, I'm a no humped horse!"	Crazy, two horsed Speckled Pete Didn't know if he could eat. Didn't know if he could drink, Didn't know if he could think. Didn't know what he was for, Didn't know a word of law. Crazy two horsed Speckled Pete Tried to drink a piece of meat, Went and ate a glass of water, And we all know he didn't oughta. But tragedy comes to our feet, He dun choked on that piece of meat. Cut his mouth on the glass of water. We told him that he didn't oughta. But don't you worry, dry your eye, Cos he didn't know that he could die!
I saw Concorde Up in the sky. I heard it roar I saw it fly. I watched it pass Without a word. That white and streamlined Metal bird.	I saw an elephant last week Trying to play at hide and seek. He couldn't hide, But never mind, Cos boy you should have seen him find!	Round and round the flower pot, In and out the rose bed. That's the way the dahlias went; Who sprayed the trees red?
It was in the middle of June, The sun was in the sky. And in the east The crescent moon Was feeling very dry.	Grasshopper twittering By the light of the moon. But nobody wants him Cos he sings out of tune.	Fight for freedom, Used his head. Opposition, Now he's dead.
Yesterday Twas the day before today. Tomorrow Tis the day after today. Today Tis now.	Twas nay on a Sunday That the parish rabbi died. And twas nay on a Saturday That Reverend Bish expired.	,doowroN morf ynool a saw ecno erehT ,drawrof ton sdrawkcab etorw syawla ohW ,ti sseug nac uoy erofeb tuB ,ti ssefnoc ll'I kniht I .doowroN morf ynool dam taht m'I seY
In the middle of the night On a merry summer's morn, When the city's ponds were frozen Cos the weather was so warm. The undertaker's car passed by With coffins full of people. The vicar went and lived it up With champagne in the steeple. But we shall leave this happy scene And do the Whitehall roll. Let's join the euro union, And drive them up the pole!	It's a killing world. It's a dying world. We've got genocide. Committing suicide. Go out and spread the word. They say we're civilised. They haven't realised. The world's destroying us. So come on make a fuss. Go out and spread the word. Napalm bombs explode. The war planes drop their load. Bullets ricochet. See the bodies splay. Go out and spread the word.	Destroy your fellow man, Destroy him all you can. They tell you fight and kill, And then destroy your will. Go out and spread the word. Atom bombs are here, But you can't show your fear. It is here today, We'll accept it anyway. Go out and spread the word. So call for peace my friend, Before we meet the end. Abolish killing now, You surely all know how Go out and spread the word. The word is 'peace'.
Walking, talking, Twenty miles. Plenty of sweat, But plenty of smiles. Halfway there, A few hours more. Got to keep going, Though your feet are sore. Walking, talking, Just ten miles. Must keep going, All the while. Nearly there, End's in sight. You started early morning, And you finish at night. No walking, talking, Just quiet and peace. You've finished your walk, You've time to sleep. Time to sleep.	Time, time passing forward, Unceasingly forward. Never stopping, Onward. Life is for the living, For taking, not giving. Short, too short. Three score and ten. All around us air, Flowing, blowing everywhere. Hot and cold, wet and dry. There for us to breath. War and peace, Violence cease. Killing, suffering. All should stop.	Fair town, here now, Stalls for people go. Noise and row now, All people know. Flock forward come, Rush squeeze tight. See laugh and fun, Be all right. General tell every man, Button push is now. Atom bomb burst, All quiet, no row. Radiation, Dust fall down. All on station, All on town. All quiet, no row, Wrong, God said. All too late now, People dead.
Spring cometh, Songs to sing. Summer cometh, Church bells ring. Autumn cometh, Red leaves bring. Winter cometh, White frosting.	Captain Drake made a cake Upon a summer's day. He watched it rise Before his eyes. It blew the mast away.	If you could I'm sure you would, But if you didn't, don't. If you should and always could Then do unless you won't. So never start a thing until You know you should and could. But if you wouldn't anyway Then don't and just be good.
Spare a thought for the onion crusher, He tramples all your onions. But all he gets from noon till night Are feet of pickled bunions.	The Colonel one day went quite mad. 'Someone's eaten me sausages! Cad!' But it wasn't a tomato That chomped his chipolata, But an electrical eel bedad!	A young man from the Austrian Tyrol Had the name Yashpinking Van Bol. One day he got bored By what he was called And changed it to Yashping Swiss Roll.
Have you ever been to Nowhere? A very nice place to see. If you've never been to Nowhere Then why not come with me? The buildings are tall and majestic, And down on the heath there's a fair. But silence still reigns in the city, For of course there is nobody there. All the parks and the streets are quite empty, All the roads and the cars are quite still. You will find there is never a person to see, In the valley, or up on the hill. So now you have visited Nowhere, I hope that it all pleased your eye. Your tour of the city is over. So now I will bid you good-bye.	Since the beginning of time men have fought, Tribes against tribes, races against races. Men have been warring, and power they sought. But all that they did was fall flat on their faces. In the beginning they used arrows and spears, And stones, and clubs, and iron maces. As time progressed over hundreds of years Push buttons and bombs took their places. Why oh why did they do this to each other? Why could they not live in peace? Why could not a brother like a brother? Why could not this fighting cease? Now it is far too late. Man has reached the ultimate. This is what will be their fate. Each other they'll annihilate.	Hippies line main street, Bells hang from their necks. They can't afford shoes, And they all look like wrecks. Potter here and there Along the main street With long knotted hair And dirty sad feet. But they have their love Sweet silent pleasure. They live just above Slow realms of leisure. There in the corner A man with a lot. Little Jack Horner His thumb in the pot. High and he's happy, There's no need to care. His name Gran'pappy His long scraggy hair. And just up in front A couple in love, They're still on the hunt For pleasure above. Group has a freak out, They're on LSD. They writhe and they shout, At least they are free. Hippies forever! Goes out the call. Hippies forever! They'll never fall. They're crazy and mad, They are not like us. At least they aren't sad. The sad ones are us.
Life is what you make it. Life is something you have To use and use well. Life is to cherish and save. Use it to your best ability And improve on what you find. But do not waste it. Keep it in mind.	There once was a man called Fred Who had a minute little head. It wasn't a gink That caused it to shrink. But the witch doctor he told to drop dead.
Da Vinci Was a genius, Plato Philosophic. Henry Moore A sculptor man, Hirst was Catastrophic.	If voice like hair is fading fast And vocal chords abrasive. If whispered sexy words of love No longer are persuasive. Then worry not, this joke of time At least cannot prevent a Creaky voice from starring as  A BBC presenter.
My Asbo's about to expire, But I'm happy they gave me a wire. I painted and gardened Before I was pardoned, Now wired expired, retired.		(To my wife) Because you're beautiful I want you Because you're my centre I need you Because you're my world I miss you Because you're you I love you Just because.
To the Today programme, BBC Radio 4 I'm fond of my fridge Said Humphries aloud. But surely two's company And freezer's a crowd.	Butterfly Fluttery by Quietly Mutter by.	Never let Experience Get in the Way of progress.
Men are from Mars, Women from Venus. Women are sexy, But men have a silly Floppy thing that Keeps coming Between them.	Some are dark and Some are fine Some are fair in Summer time. To summarise As some'd bet Beauty reigns in Somerset.	I went to Clare She wasn't there. I do declare She was elsewhere.
Motorway buzz Car tyre rumbles Dark clouds amass Down the rain tumbles. Radio cricket Outfielder fumbles What's all that noise Dozing wife mumbles.	My submission to the BBC Limerick page about George W Bush's Note to Condoleeza Rice at the UN. It includes  a reference to Hurricane Katrina that devastated New Orleans. The note said he needed to go. "Hey Condi, there's rumblings below. If I don't get in motion, The resulting explosion Will rival Katrina....oh oh..."	All praise to Johnny Wilkinson Who scored the goal Whilst on the run That clinched the match His winning team Is held by all In high esteem.
Have you ever felt A little forlorn, Whilst mowing the grass On a dull summer's morn?   With clouds in the sky And weeds on the ground, Pet rabbit's wee droppings Well scattered around.   Black ants building nests Heaped sand on the path, Overgrown roses A mildewed bird bath.   Missing the rugby And football, no chance, You survey your land In one withering glance.   But Lady Luck smiles, She eases your pain. Oh gosh what a shame, It's started to rain!	White furry rabbit with Bright pink eyes, odd shaped ears. Jasmin died today A hutch was too cruel. She lived in the garden. Then she died today She feasted on young buds, So we fenced off a space But she died today She bit through live cable, So we tied it all up. Then she died today She was our daughter's pet For nearly nine years. Amy cried today She beat off all comers, But lost out to nature. Her heart stopped today We fed her, we topped up Her water, and stroked her. But she went today And soon she'll become a Small round urn, cremated. As she died today Though ashes will be cold, Memories will be warm Way beyond today.	Give to charity at Christmas.... I quite agree,  A great idea. It's something I Have just done here. No buying bits Of glittered card. No wasting cash On verse of Bard. No corny scenes Of robin red In snowy trees That look half dead. No jolly pics Of Santa Claus. No yuletide pics Of fireside bores. Heaved the holly Banished berries Ditched the pudding (Kept the cherries). And then with great Alacrity I wrote a cheque To charity.
		Re controversial hydro electric scheme for Windsor Castle - Feb 2004 Dear Queen Liz's Hydro plan Was not the first To risk a ban. Queen Victoria's Was refused; That's why she said 'Weir' not amused.
My submission to the BBC Limerick page There was a young dreamer called Tony Hired session musicians from Sony. In guitar, jeans and wig He kicked off the gig With his tribute to Brown..."Moany, moany"	The Beckhams gave their son a girl's name The reason for calling him Cruz Was Beckham, a glass and some booze. The name sounds so great After seven or eight, But sober it's really bad news.
Did you ever see a pear Sitting in a lion's lair? Or spy a rather large banana Floating by a small piranha? Did you ever hear a grape Try to imitate an ape? Or watch a wrestler have a grapple With a Cox's Pippin apple? Be astounded by a lemon Counting up to ninety seven? Met a travelled pomegranate Who's been to the Isle of Thanet? Maybe heard the grand grapefruit Who's just learned how to pay the flute? And sailed with Captain Water Melon In his ship 'Straits of Magellan'? You've never met that fruity bunch? Well never mind, let's have some lunch.	Now that you're no longer Prime You have the scope and have the time To swan around the Middle East And kid them you are bringing peace. Even though the Palestinian Sees you as a George Bush minion. Israel knows the States will back it. Saudis know you just can't hack it. Yes they'll show you grace and tact But then they'll laugh behind your back. They know you're weak, you've nowt to sell. You haven't got a hope in hell. Let's face it Tone, look at yourself. You've been retired, you're on the shelf. So quit the scene, just put it down And leave it now to Gordon Brown.	Procrassity Is the smother Of intention
		A lady from Papua New Guinea Was desperate to slim and be thinny. With Atkins in hand She reduced her waistband And now she's incredibly skinny.
I'd like to write a line or two About the dreaded bus stop queue. That good old rush hour institution, Part of British Constitution. Where oft times not we go insane Standing in the pouring rain. Where motorists with fiendish mirth Drown us in great waves of surf. Where bus men let our hopes full swell, Then say,"Full up", and ring the bell. Assuming now there's one at all, For generally and as a rule, You wait for ages, nothing comes, Then suddenly there's four at once. But this is just a planned attack, One stops and three nip round the back! So left again without a ride, Cos five's already stood inside. You wait once more at bus stop grey. And curse the bus and wish the day Had never started, wasn't true. Life can be cruel, and buses too!	I wish I was American And not a struggling Brit Whose Premier is a liar And the Chancellor full of s**t. At least George Bush is honest, We all know where he's at. He's ignorant and stupid. An all round total p***t. We know his friends are crooked, He pooh poohs greenhouse gas, Consistently behaving like A right wing Texan ass. He screws up all things Arab. Spends money like a drain. Drops taxes at the high end So the poorer feel the pain. But they have trucks and baseball, Unwatchable TV. Obesity and hand guns. Yes! America's for me!