Keep Away From Me

If I am going to quarantine
Myself, I’d like to know.
Tell me please, in confidence,
Where all of YOU will go.

‘Cos as I’m trying to be safe
I do not want to see
The likes of you and Josephine
Paying a call on me.

That would defeat my purpose
In shutting myself away;
Non-contact is the intention,
To keep the germs at bay.

You may say this is overkill,
But as I’m eighty-five,
I really wish a few more years
To keep myself alive.

 

God is a Woman

God is a Woman, it now is claimed,
No more a scheming Man;
Not that all-seeing, omniscient being,
Of whom I was a fan.

For now this HE becomes a SHE,
My preconceptions lost;
And I must learn to re-construe
To my eternal cost.

I’d rather S/HE was bisexual,
Of indeterminate sex.
That might satisfy all tastes,
Fewer feelings to be vexed.

 

Photos:WHB 2020 ©

A – G – M

Photo by Immortal shots on Pexels.com

I met a dear old friend
Whose time I knew was fleeting;
He looked so frail and wan,
I asked how he was keeping.

He said he was ‘A-G-M‘,
A strange and quirky word,
In fact I thought it odd
And really quite absurd.

I asked him what he meant.
He said “Because I’m old,
And glad to be alive
I think you should be told …”

That I am still quite fit,
Not ready yet for disposal,
Still stepping out and free,
‘Above the Ground and Mobile.’

 

Love and Passion

Photo by Edward Eyer on Pexels.com

Love and Passion

 

One thing is certain, come  what may,

I’ll wager till my dying day,

And guarantee that Love and Passion

Never will go out of fashion.

 

Death Wish at Sea

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS on Pexels.com

The storm was predicted,
Jet black was the sky,
But I  needed to cross,
I remember not why.

The ship sailed for Dublin,
I knew I must try
To bolster my nerves
My fear to defy.

A storm was predicted,
Air pressure awry.
Not for the first time
I feared I would die.

But that storm was a beast
And I let out a cry,
‘Please Lord do listen,
Oh please let me die!’

But we made it across
That dread Irish Sea,
But I’ve never yet mastered
My fears. Let them be!

 

Cuisine Chez Moi

Cuisine Chez Moi – A Culinary Critique

a critical menu
battered salmon steaks
served on china white
juices run off
then mayonnaised
glorified and garnished
presented au gratin
with whipped creamed mash
and one fat lonely
half spliced
sprog from brussels

truly a dreamed of dish
kindly meant
subliminally envisaged
in hypnagogic moments
yet met with silence
unpopular
yet savagely devoured
by a famished family
now fed
now fulfilled
my culinary skills
uncommented
unquestioned
just silently derided
never to be repeated
by popular
though unvoiced request

 

Hand over the Chocolate

Photo:  WHB – Somerset, 2019

Hand over the chocolate – and nobody gets hurt!

Ah, the thrill of choc’late,
Tempting, teasing treasure.
Try me, taste me, test me,
Tell me your mine for ever.

Lick me, suck me, drink me,
Smear me with your richness;
Cover me in your flavour,
Bathe me in your sweetness.

I need you, oh, I need you,
As Adam needed Eve;
I’d sell my soul for choc’late
In the land of make-believe.

 

A Polite Notice

Photo:  WHB … ‘No Parking’ – Devon 2019   ©

I beg your attention,
Please read and take note.
I kindly request,
And this you can quote:

That before you park here,
Leave your car and depart,
I ask that you notice,
Think of me, have a heart.

Allow me my right
To come and to go.
Do not box me in,
Do not cause me woe.

For if you ignore me
And fasten me in,
I may well take a hammer
And commit a great sin.

On the Pleasures of Being Hirsute

 

Oh for the hair to grow at will,
For growth to flourish unchecked until,
A healthy tash achieved at last,
Measurements rarely ever surpassed.

Twirls and swirls and supercurls,
Better than ever seen on girls,
Now adorned his hirsute face,
Hardly left a breathing space.

To grow so hairy takes a while;
Shame it covers up his smile.
But he is happy, quite ecstatic,
Loves the look, so charismatic. 

The Has-Bean

Photo: Dunster, Somerset, England … 2020 – WHB  ©

Little black coffee bean
Put there to plug his wares;
Enjoying his Americano,
Oblivious to his cares.

On the pavement, feet in gutter,
Teetering on a ledge.
How better could he show his love
Of living on the edge?

Yes, he knows he’s round and crunchy,
His family abound.
He’s just another old has-bean
Waiting to be ground.