Monthly Archives: June 2018

To be…

what next, I wonder…

…wondering lonely as a cloud?

Is that allowed?

Who knows me like I do?

Questions?

Indubitably!

G:)

I once went window-shopping

it was a pane

one day I’m going again .

I don’t need windows,

buying the last one was rash;

but, it had a lovely frame

and a cute little sash.

State well thought out and intensely researched opposing position.

Receive verbal insults and hate.

Consider whether an ’East is / West is’ policy is what we have.

Sigh at the intransigent nature of some people.

He who shouts loudest…

My salmon-pink car

that used to be red

is now salmon-pink instead;

it’s been six or seven years

and I’ve been close to tears

from the fading image of it there in my head.

It used to be so shiny and smart;

but, now, every year,

I need a new colour chart,

to see which colour thou art…

my salmon-pink car

only goes so far

and much slower than when it was Ferrari red;

now the colour had faded,

performance seems jaded

I should get myself a go-cart instead.

My salmon-pink car

is no jaguar

in British Racing Green,

it’s more a Mini-Moke

a Cockney-rhyming joke,

and it’s becoming more of a has-been.

One day,

it will fade away,

completely.

But, for now.

somehow,

I should claim ownership of it

more discretely.

My salmon-pink car

from which all the colour’s bled…

Ernie the Attorney.

There was a young Cornishman named Ernie

who set off one day on a journey

he travelled by rail,

by bus and by sail

and in Limerick he became an attorney.

The whole story, as it was later told, said that Ernie, a soon-to-be attorney,

went on a journey

off to the Emerald Isle

in a boat;

he took some honey,

plenty of money

all wrapped up well,

as the story does tell,

in the obligatory five-pound note.

He travelled away

for a year and a day

missing Ireland by no more than a country mile;

and when, eventually, he reached dry land,

somewhere other than where he had planned;

he found himself still able to smile.

“I’ve reached my destination!”

he cried with some elation,

“Begorah! Top of the morning! slàinte mhath!

Well, the natives they stared;

raised spears and teeth bared,

prepared to advance and attack;

Ernie, becoming aware

of the danger did swear:

“Bejesus! Begorah! I’d better be gone!”

and he ran back aboard the boat, turning tail he set sail.

Ernie had many other adventures

as he recrossed the Atlantic;

on a journey quite tantric;

he was eaten by a whale;

shipwrecked on an island;

and once, when at a loss,

Ernie shot at an albatross;

but, after a while he did manage to cross the ocean and landed at a place they did call Spanish Point.

“¡Ola!” he cried. “Buenos Dias!”

And the Irish people that greeted his boat were amused at his Spanish

“¡Ole!” they did call, which was all the Spanish that they could manage.

So, from Spanish Point to Donegal

Ernie travelled,

until, in a tick,

he found himself in fair Limerick,

where he became Ernie the Attorney,

eventually becoming a top o’ the morning lawyer

who practiced under the name of Tom Sawyer, writer of wrongs.