Monthly Archives: November 2015

The Moon

A lunar being

Tidal adjuster of our seas

Rhymer with June

And traveller of our planet’s

Number one bus route.

Please don’t stop for me;

Even if I do ring the bell.

This is not the previous post. G:)

When two words collide
They have usually begun with a divide;
Then a closer attraction causes a hyphenation;
Which is often
(But not always)
a temporary situation;
Then, when dehyphenation occurs,
The divide between them blurs
And is lost…
Possibly.
How does ‘night time’
Become ‘nighttime’
Was there ever a ‘night-time’
For a time?
And will that second ‘t’
Of ‘nighttime’
Become a thing of history?
Or will the first ‘t’
Be
The first
To
Go?
If ‘you’ know
Please let me know, too –
And if you are convincing enough
I shall consider ‘you’
The ‘go to’ person to go to…
Or to ‘go-to’
Or to
‘Goto!’

Thank you

G:)

“Where is my mince pie?”
Said the slightly hungry man.
“I really might like a bite!”
He had, if the truth were known,
Just eaten a huge flan.
“With custard and cream…
and a spoon – I would like it soon.”
He paused, awaiting the delicious treat… a filling sweet
But, nothing arrived before his place
And the smile of anticipation
Fell from his face.
“You make lovely mince pies!”
He called with a grin.
A silence then, did begin…
Which was only broken
By his whispered addendum:
“Eventually.”

He considered the idea that he was destined to be disappointed –
Just in case that turned out to be the case –
So, that he wouldn’t be ‘that’ disappointed if it did.
He wasn’t.

It was a good idea – I thought – to name my new restaurant La Cucaracha; the song was bound to be an earworm in the advertising stakes; it seemed to me to be an absolute winner.

Then somebody asked me what a ‘Cucaracha’ was.

I had no idea. A quick search online with one of those steam engine searchamegigs

and the sad truth was realised: you can’t call a restaurant ‘The Cockroach!’ It would be a disaster. So that plan was dropped.

we ended up calling it La Cochinilla; which is something red, I think.

G:)

Not a nemotode

I was going to write you

(yes, you)

an ode to a nemotode;

but, I don’t actually know

that much about you.

could you please kindly

take a minute or two

to elucidate my lack of knowledge

as I never studied you at college

(or anything else, as I didn’t go there)

?

I shoulda coulda – maybe woulda – tried harder

if I knew

that I wouldn’t know about you.

so, I sit here and squirm

with my lack of knowledge –

are you some sort of worm?

It’s ‘Black Ink Friday’ today
So, make the most of it
Or it will soon go away –
“BlackInk!”
And it’s gone.
And it will only leave
An indelible trace
For you
To dwell upon.

For, when the daypage turns
As it inevitably will
There will be no mystery
It will just be a part of our history
And life can return
To the ‘Any Colour Ink You Like!’ Days
That we are so at home with.

NB please make a note in your diary for BIF 2017. Please use Black Ink. G:)