Monthly Archives: January 2021

“Nonsence, complete and utter nonsence!”

Crows in rows,

and Gollum in a column;

can you tell, yet,

that this is going to be

a sort of nonsense poem?

A seagull

and Sméagol,

sharing a field;

one grasps a chip butty,

the other, a mighty ring

he does yield;

but, I shall not tell,

which was which;

and, so, ‘Unfair!’ you yell.

Aragorn was born

on a cool winter’s morn,

and a strapping youth was he;

he called for his pipe,

and he called for his dummy,

and he called for his fiddlers, too.

Which reminds me of Old King Cole,

that merry monarch,

who had a pet Dover Sole,

that he kept in the English Channel.

Once upon a time,

I wrote a little rhyme,

and was as happy as can be –

that also reminds a song to me.

So, it ends,

with crows still in rows,

but, Gollum,

now perched atop the heights

of Nelson’s tall column.

Unexpected Silence

When all has been Babel,

with calmness absconded

to a distant quiet place;

the storm’s sudden cessation

brings an unseen relief to the senses,

that the clamour of sturm und drang

have cut to the quick.

“More Cowbell!”

‘More Cowbell!’ he requested.

I replied, ‘Less is more!’

He was not sure

if that was so,

and, so, asked me this,

‘Are less musicians

good for my financial statisticians?’

I thought.

Then hit that Cowbell

for all I was worth –

a barrel of treacle,

and a spoonful of Earth.

Dr. Foster’s Gloucester Imposter

Dr. Foster’s Gloucester Imposter

posed a pretty puzzle for the Police.

He looked like Doctor Foster,

but, was, as we are told, an imposter;

‘His posture was wrong,

his accent too long,

and his grasp on medicine

was dilute, not strong.’

The Police posted a picture

upon a lamppost;

and awaited a lead –

as did the Police Alsatian,

who was of a needy breed.


“To be… “

To be,

or not ‘not’ to be;

that is no question;

it is merely the saying

of the same thing…

in differing ways.

To not be,

or not to ‘not’ be;

is just confusing,

and aren’t we

already confused enough?

That is a question –

although it may,

or may not, be

a rhetorical one.

Never Forget to Feed the Elephant in the Room

Never, ever, forget

to feed the elephant;

because, you don’t want

an angry, hungry elephant,

in your house.

A mouse might chew

on your skirting boards

to get through to the other side;

but, you won’t be able to hide

the damage that a ‘phant would do

if they wanted to.

The skirting boards

might be the only things left;

of the rest of the room,

you could well be bereft.

Nothing to see here

Nothing to see here, today,

all ideas have been consumed;

please come back tomorrow –

when abnormal service may be resumed.

Sunday, not a poetry day?

I tried to write a poem,

something, anything;

but, nothing could I write;

so, I went for a walk instead,

to consider the nothingness

in my head.

R.H.Y.T.H.M. & R.H.Y.M.E.

Red-handed, you, the hit-man,

are caught with my misspelling

clenched between your teeth;

your reply:

‘Red-handed? You, me, everybody!

Culpability is my only crime.

A quick Haiku thing

Because time is short,

and I have some things to do,

a real quick Haiku.

(I know, it’s a fix,

to write a poem so trite;

but, it’s what I do).