Tag Archives: #penny

Pre-Decimal Poetry

Pre-Decimal Poetry

“Who will buy my Ginger Jam,

my Ginger Jam,

my Ginger Jam?

Who will buy my Ginger Jam

at seven-pence ha’penny a jar?”

Finders Keepers 2


I found ‘another’ penny
I will save up ‘all’ my findings
And ‘one day’ I hope to have enough
To buy a money-box to put them all in.

and you can read…

The original Finders Keepers wp.me/p1MjHq-10P via @PoemMeGroup

Finders Keepers


I found a penny
On the ground
Small, slightly shiny
Flat and round
I picked it up
To bring me luck
Heads or tails?
Heads it was;
And if all else fails
I can pop it in a wishing well
That will bring me luck
I can tell
Unless the well is broken
In which case
The penny will just be a token
Gesture from me to it
‘Easy come, easy go’
That is another aphorism
That I know.
And if you want to comment
Your thoughts
Upon my words…
I have payment.

Penny For Your Thoughts


If I had a penny… (well, for a start I wouldn’t be ‘penniless,’ but, that’s a story in itself – and for another time)… If I had a penny… I would be able to ask you for your thoughts – and be able to pay you for the pleasure of your innermost meanderings; and knowing you, as I do, I know that ‘you’ would ask for that payment upfront – and test the coin with a slick ‘bite’ and, maybe you would have a set of scientific scales about your person with which to check that the coin was within an acceptable degree of weight perfection – maybe.

But, I don’t have a penny; and, nothing is for free in your world.

So, we sit here in silence; while I try to look as if my mind has something interesting upon it, that you may be inquisitive about. I know that you have a whole pocketful of pennies; just one, transferred to my possession, would allow me to ask you ‘that’ question.

A penny for your thoughts?” I would say – casual, unaffected, just a caring friend wishing to share their concern for your silence and its cause.

That’s what I would say.

Another thing – as your name is ‘Penny,’ you might think that I was being flippant; that I was taking the proverbial out of you (which I do, far too often of late).

So, we sit here in silence.

And the silence drags.

And I have to say something – some thing.

But, don’t.

You start to pull at that wristband again; twisting its emotive words into a distorted message of concern.

I watch the detailed moments of an inconsequential action.

I consider them too deeply; associating the twisting with your tortured soul and the distortion with your mental anguish.

I was always one to over-analyse.

You always told me that.

You do realise that I have always loved you. Would do anything for you. Have taken breath from the air to keep alive – just for you.

You don’t even know that I am here – you have no eyes for me; no thoughts upon me; no pounding heart to me.

You are not someone who can love another; as they would love you; as they do love you; as I love you.

We keep the silence between us and just exist. Just.

If I died now – would you notice? Would you utter a brief requiem upon my passing? Would you break this vow of nothingness?

I won’t test this out to see the reality of it; unless you ask me to – as I said ‘anything!’

Time passes. You remain unchanged; whilst I age perceptibly. My youth leaves faint traces; my status as an elder forms lines upon my face.


I think that I must have slept; for upon opening my eyes, I understand the feeling that you had gone… to be a truth.