Poems of 1990.
Robin’s folly
Alas, poor Rob, we know him well,
His is a sorry tale to tell;
Of a night of alcoholic bliss
When he drank to much and got quite ……..merry
And like a knight on silver steed,
Helped a stripper in her hour of need.
Now whose to know what bare faced cheek
Could make his trembling knees go weak?
Was it the passion or the pain
That made him cry for it again?
For who could tell and who could know
What gave his cheeks that rosy glow!
Perhaps he felt he should have known
To leave his trouser belt at home.
Better, by far, to let them fall
Before he heard the lady’s call;
For notoriety and fame
Can cling like lipstick to a name!
So there’s a lesson to be learned
If you don’t want your fingers burned..
Take head before you go and see
The stripper of your fantasy -
Or by the time you go to bed
It may not be your face that’s red!
Dear Jacquie,
Have a fag, then have a rest
Then go and sit your blessed test
We’ve crossed out fingers, toes and knees
(God help us if we want to wee!)
With baited breath we sit and wait
To know the outcome of your fate
For God’s sake Jac., you must do well
Because, like you, we’ve been through hell.
ODE TO BALLA WRAY
Another chapter in my life
Is now reaching it’s end
As I say farewell to Balla Wray
It’s residents and friends
So as I move to other things
And leave them all behind
This little rhyme will keep them
In the corner of my mind.
There’s the goodly Doctor Barrett
And his obsession with his bowels
He does farmyard impressions
When he passes wind - most foul!
Porr Dennis dribbles - while his eyes
Reflect the state of mind.
With the bedsore on his buttocks
He’s a pain in the behind!
Now Freda is a quiet one
Perhaps a little sad
But when she will not use her leg
She makes us hopping mad ! (ooops sorry!)
And Dora is a mother hen
Though she drives some folks to tears
While Sheila wees enough to fill
The whole of Windermere
The distinguished gent, Sir Austin
I’m sure you will agree
Needs little introduction
From a peasant such as me.
While the absent-minded prof.
(who is really such a sweet!)
Would walk a little better
If he’d only move his feet!
Now China is a silent soul
Who seldom makes a fuss
He goes to church on Sunday
And says prayers for all of us.
And Wonky, Wonky’s lovely,
Though she pees like falling rain
And her mouth works independently
From her troubled brain
But Arthur is the saddest chap
That you will likely find
For despite attempts to find it
He has slowly lost his mind.
And Ester is the poorly one,
Whose destiny is set
She prepares to meet her maker
But he’s not ready for her yet.
There’s poor Gladys, sometimes tearful
And tormented often sad
We can only watch, so helplessly
Her husband going mad.
While Ruth bleats mournfully all day
She’s never seen to laugh.
(Though she resembles a plucked chicken
when she’s naked in the bath!) (Shhhhhh!)
And George - well, he’s a lovely man,
Though often tearful, too
For he gets very frustrated
At the things he cannot do.
Now Mrs. Kerwin is a dear
Though her legs a shade gigantic
And when she wees in the commode
There’s enough to sink Titanic!
And Mrs. Hale’s room is a fright
The cleaners treat it with disdain
For it’s said that one who ventured in
Was never seen or heard again!
So yes….
I’ll miss them all with all their quirks
Indeed, I’ll miss often
But most of all I guess I’ll miss
Wiping their dirty bottoms !!!
Some may consider motorbike riding
Strange companion to the creation of
Such delicate lace, but others
may feel it merely confirms my reputation
As the fastest shuttle in the west.
ODE TO ERNIE
My little stay in hospital
has been an education;
Observing fellow inmates,
whilst I await my operation:-
We have a mousy lady
who has a lions roar,
For when they dim the lights at night-
my, you should hear her snoar!
There are varicose veins - a gallbladder -
and an ulcer for a graft -
and one poor lady (with breast removed)
who is slowly going daft!
There’s an obstruction in the gullet -
and several broken bones -
while another poor soul has gangrene
and is losing some of her toes!!
But I shouldn’t jest about these folks
for it is clear to see
that most are more courageous
than I could ever hope to be.
So I thank the Lord that my ordeal
is now reaching its ending;
And I also thank my surgeon
for his smart invisible mending
ODE TO
LAURIE’S BIRTHADAY
Dear Laurie,
On your birthday I wanted to write you a rhyme -
But I thought...and I thought....and I ran out of time.
For believe it of not, I have little to say
On the day that your misspent youth passed away.
So it’s no good sulking, or throwing a rage -
Or moaning your already feeling your age.
Just throw off your corsette, relax and be naughty -
For you know what they say - life begins at 40.
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