Friday work is almost done
I have slaved until the setting sun
Is nearly here; which doth mean
Three sleeps until work
Again rears it’s ugly head –
Not that I mind honest toil
For finances are earnt
In life, they oil the cogs
Providing food for cat and dogs
And the wherewithal for us to do
All manner of stuff (If that is vague enough).
Basically, a means to an end
We earn, we spend.
Hurrah! For the weekend. Hurrah!
Burrows: As God is my waitress
Wall: He is your ‘witness’.
Burr: Widnes? The place?
Wall: No! God. Is. Your. ‘Wait-ress!’
Burr: That’s what ‘I’ said.
Wall: Aaargh! Wit-ness! I meant ‘Wit-ness!’
Burr: You do confuse matters, Wallburt.
Wall: I do very well ‘without’ your help, Burrows.
Burr: ‘That’ is just your opinion, my little friend.
Wall: Which, as Helen said, is worth a thousand ships at lunchtime.
Burr: Is she the new girl; the tall, thin blonde?
Wall: (pauses, then says ironically) Yes, that’s the one – she also said she thought you were a rather attractive man.
Burr: (excitedly) Did she?
Wall: (bursting a bubble) No, you lummox; the Helen I speak of died many centuries ago.
Burr: That’s a shame. I was growing to like her… a lot.
Wall: She would have eaten you for breakfast.
Burr: And yet she remains so thin; must have a good metabolism.
Well: Yes. That’s what I like about you, Burrows.
Wall: Your denial of reality. It’s most entertaining.
Burr: Glad to be of service. (pause) I’m just going to mull over your words for a while and work out where the insult was.
Wall: Insults. Were.
Burr: Exactly. Now, about this waitress.
Nonsense Rhyme – a waste of time?
The Sahara is vast
Ease your lot
Or decline to be shot
Make the decision
To Insert an incision
Avoid a collision
Or act nonchalant
(Defer the derision)
Make every day a Wednesday
Apart from Wednesday itself
Which should be nameless
(Even though blameless)
Until further notice.
Leave at least one item on all plates
(Not necessarily food – or celery)
And avoid the use of forks
(Use cocktail sticks instead)
As the world needs the sky.
Then, when all is said and done
Forget it all
And return to ‘Go’
Four four-leaf clovers
Upon the way
(As you would)
And await further instructions
(Which will not be forthcoming).
An Ode to an Anode
How fine thou art –
Though I know you not so well –
But, even so, in rhyme
I shall praise you.
Pray tell me
Of your properties
That are conducive
To your being
Of use to us
And in the simplest terms
So as not to confuse my
Does electricity pass through you
When you think upon your charge
Or do you resist the urge
To prove yourself?
Cathodes, Geodes, Diodes and the like
Are they not your concern?
But, they, from you, should learn
The whys and the wherefores
That you exude
In your own special way.
Anode, please be assured that
You are welcome in our lives
As one whom we
Can look up to
As is your due
But, please tell us
What ‘do’ you ‘do?’
Edumacated? Yes. I went to college for ages, then spent three years at university, where I studied a course which was a mixture of history and electronics – I know; the two don’t seem to go together; but, I left with a tutu degree in histrionics.
Which explains a lot.
Please excuse me but I have no choice I have to use my poetry voice I will apologise in advance before I send you all off to sleep or in to a trance and maybe if you are lucky you will end up temporarily comatose
the one thing I know for sure
Is that I am in my shoes and you are in your shoes
Which doesn’t make sense
please excuse my lack of proficience
I’m a little short on experience
And when it comes to my diffidence
I nervously shake, hence
My tripping over these words
And you can tell it to the birds
And the bees – just don’t
Tell it to the trees –
Which I think is from a song from the 70s
I try to please
With every poem
And tread Caerphilly
These feet of mine
As I try to provide
The rhyme divine
By and by
I’m that sort of guy.