I don’t like change.
Why does it have to be?
Just when I’m getting used to things
The world changes on me!!

Ode To Less Stress

beneath a dark forboding sky
threatening snowfall from on high
the little Inuk stood

naughty of behaviour he
awaiting now a scrumptious tea
commander of the Arctic Sea
a fire he’d built of wood

around his waist his purse contained
all he needed, he never complained
never his appetite restrained
the fish tasted so good

many should take a leaf from his book
and with fresh eyes at their situation look
for they have much more
than a purse and a hook
to catch their fish

to be satisfied with simple life
lessens the need for lots of strife
happiness then becomes rife
no need to wish

Yorkshire Waters Lament

I love the
..sound, that
....water makes,
.......in puddles,
..........ponds, canals
.............and lakes,
...............in streams and
...............rivers gushing,
...........rushing, pushing
.......rocks and stones
...and pebbles,
. in babbling brooks,
.in leafy nooks,
...gently wandering,
.....meandering,
.......mumbling,
.........bumbling,
...........past bush
........../..and tree rumbling,
...............over waterfalls
..........,,,....tumbling,
..................almost stumbling,
................. onward
................ever onward,
..............to the sea.
............Beaches caressing,
.........fishermen guessing,
........strollers impressing,
.........bathers undressing.
...........Sometimes dashing,
.............sometlmes smashing,
...............ever crashing.
.............. .Alone. Bereft,
............... .in rocky cleft.
.............. .Surface stabbing,
.......... ...children gabbing,
...... .....crabs a grabbing,
..... ......starfish nabbing.
.... ........The Ocean,
..... .........the place to be.
...... ..........All waters join
...................and shout with glee
.......... ...........I'm free; I'm free; I'm free!

The Vicars Charm

All names used are fictitious – Justin Case

Long ago in a far off place,
there lived a girl called Emma Grace,
her family tree she'd tried to trace
and drew a blank.

Friends were few and far between
without a male upon the scene,
oh how could life be so mean?
Her spirits sank.

She thought she'd advertise the fact.
She needed a mate with lots of tact,
then with him she'd make a pact.
He'd take her for his wife.

At last she hooked the very man
and happy with her perfect plan,
down the aisle together ran.
His for life.

The vicar looked at them with glee,
this was his first ce-rem-on-y,
as he continued ner-vous-ly,
‘Or forever hold your peace’

A voice spoke up from the back.
A ladies voice in a green mac,
"He can't get wed, his wife's come back".
It was his favourite niece.

So here ends this sad, sad tale
of Emma Grace at the alter, pale
and Jimmy Royde, who leaped the rail
running ever since.

The vicar took her by the arm,
she succumbed to his charm,
now they run a maggot farm,
it's enough to make you wince.

In defence of the humble peanut

Humble peanut sitting there,
you really haven’t got a care.
In or out your special shell,
you cause allergic throats to swell.

Some say you are a waste of space,
they’d rather not even see your face.
Chocolate should take your place!!
I ‘d like to give you a fond embrace,

and every pigeon in the world
would rather see your banner unfurled,
bravely deflect all insults hurled,
in defence of the humble peanut.