When Saturday Came
It’s always one-nil, for or against,
In my memory,
Always four-four-two.
Grandad would take me, shine or rain,
In my memory,
Were we the red or the blue ?
Half-time pies and always singing,
Stripey scarves across the board,
And Grandad smiling, regardless of winning
In my memory,
Espec’ly when anyone scored !
Scallies
The scallop is the seafood of the gods,
The oyster of the Hells,
When plucked from out their wavy pods
And slurped within their shells.
As succulent as seaborne lambs –
Just witness Venus and St James,
United in their love of clams
To winkle from their frames.
James prefers his upside down,
As if to hide a pea beneath,
While Venus separates the crown
And scoops out with her teeth.
James gives pilgrims empty shells,
To aid in their devotion.
Venus mounts hers in hotels
To pose on with no clothes on.
Batteries
The old railway tunnel is gated now,
The trains haven’t run for years.
The bells never chime in the minster tower,
The saints needn’t cover their ears.
The caves are abandoned by hominids,
And the pillboxes carry no guns.
Besides from tramps and adventurous kids,
Then the bats are the only ones.
Scurry
Quick, down here !
Over there !
Are they near ?
They’re ev’rywhere !
You take one way,
I’ll go this –
Meet you Monday,
Hit-or-miss.
Best not dally,
Shake your feet –
Up the alley,
’Cross the street –
Don’t stop now !
Pick up the pace –
I’ll see you, somehow,
Usual place.
Roofkeepers
The gargoyles are guarding the peregrines’ nests,
In their makeshift high-rise habitats.
They gurgles-down the gutters near their new houseguests,
As they keep the drainpipes clean, and they trap the thieving rats.
They shelter the chicks when the North wind blows,
Inbetween the buttresses the parapets.
They lure-in the pigeons, they ward-off the crows,
And they scare-back the devils with their gruesome silhouettes.
Can it be, October already ? Then time to grasp at the accidental inspiration for some short poems. Over the coming week you can enjoy some vol-au-vents prompted by the official titles, all of little consequence but hopefully of some enjoyment.
T-Moth
Tell me, rectilinear thing,
If you’re a moth then where’s your wing ?
When not in ragged, fraying flight
It’s held-out straight and rolled-up tight.
You’re crucified in upper case,
And dressed in brightest white and beige –
No camouflage for any place,
Except, perhaps, the printed page.
Demergence
How long should we leave the Lego built
Before we break it down ?
How long will the sandy castle stand
Before its turrets drown ?
How long should we sit back and admire
The finished jigsaw puzzle,
Till it’s taking up the table space
Where other things could bustle ?
Time then to embrace the entropy,
Disrupt the orthodox,
And smash the status quo with relish
Back into its box.
Britannias
What ho ! I’m Ali,
Born in Cairo –
True-blue British, doncha know ?
Like squire Sanjay –
Mumbai-bred,
As English as a phone box red.
And then there’s Chang,
From County Down,
By bowler hat and Chinatown.
And Elzbieta,
Glasgow gal,
As fish-and-chips as any pal,
And Welsh Pierre
Of Montreal,
So fluent in the bat-and-ball.
The best of British,
Tweeds and cap –
As much as any other chap.
Fads & Fangles
It started with vinyl,
Then moved to cassettes –
Now cameras use film,
And our watches use springs.
For all we progress,
So we harbour regrets –
The world has gone wireless,
But we long for strings.
We’re too young to ever
Remember those days,
But we switch-out the hoover
For artisan brooms.
I wonder what’s next ?
A typewriter craze ?
A love for old diesels,
Because of their fumes ?
We’re questioning science
Like never before –
We’re leery of vaccines,
We’re losing our spark.
I hope it’s a fetish,
And not something more –
We’ve no use for luddites,
Or Ages of Dark.
It started with vinyl,
Then moved to 5G –
It used to be fun,
Till the humour was gone.
But if it’s just fashion,
Then let’s let it be –
Be retro today,
And tomorrow move on.
Rhyming Couplets 