I’m flying about with my wings
Doing extraordinary things.
I sleep in the trees.
I ride on the breeze.
When I open my beak,
It sings!

I peck on the rain slushy ground.
My bright eyes can see all who pass.
With a song and a flutter
I twirl from the gutter
On to a side verge of grass.

Newspapers, beer cans and grot
Sideline the pavements and rot,
So I fly in the air
And pretend I don’t care.
I’m glad I can’t be what I’m not.

I can’t be a dog or a cat.
Well I’m very pleased about that!
They may be stronger,
But their journeys take longer
And some of them live in a flat!

At dawn when the crimson sun rests,
She glimmers a light on my breast.
A sea gull and I dive into
the sky
Now don’t ask me why.
Perhaps it’s because we are blessed.

Yes I’m flying about with my wings
Doing extraordinary things.
I sleep in the trees.
I ride on the breeze.
When I open my beak,
It sings!


The sun like a huge golden bowl
Lit up the Magpie who stole.
His black greenish wings
Hid plenty of things:
Bright papers, tin lids,
Glass marbles from kids.
His nest bulged with bracelets
And rings.
Yes, the Magpie has plenty of things!

He’s clear white and black
With tail feathers long.
I wish he’d give back
What to him don’t belong,
But he hides and hoards
All things that gleam.
Sometimes you see him glide
Over a stream.

And on goes the black and
White thief.
He tried to remove from a leaf
A rain drop that shines.
Diamonds from mines would
Dazzle him beyond belief!

Ah.. But the sun like a huge
Golden bowl, lit up the
Magpie who stole.
His image shone clear
To all who were near
So they sent him to perch on
A pole!


A nightingale sang to
The deep blue sky.
The song had a tortoise
Wondering why.
He found some lettuce
And ate his fill.
Then ambled slowly
Back up the hill.
As this tortoise always
Looks at the ground
He couldn’t see who
Was making the sound.
Because his music tastes
Were scanty, he decided
to drink Chiante!

Then his mother warned
Him ‘Don’t over indulge
It can cause a young tortoise
to divulge,
Family secrets of a bizarre kind
And before you know it,
We’ll be undermind.
We may lose our rights in the garden
And made to curtsey and
Say “Beg your pardon,”
Then over ruled by the birds
And the bees,
We’ll hear no more music
From the trees.”

Her son the tortoise
Thought for a while.
Then slowly re-corked the wine,
With a smile.
He said “I wouldn’t mind
Being over ruled
If in great singing I
Could be schooled”
But a scornful creature
A tom cat yelled,
“A singing tortoise!
Who heard of that?”
So the tortoise went
Back into his shell.
And for music lovers
That was just as well!


It’s half past nine.
You said you’d be back at eight.
What can we do your cat and I
But wait?

Your supper is ready
Arranged upon the plate
I am hungry, but your
Cat and I just wait.

It is ten oclock
But it’s in the hands of fate.
Your supper was cold
Which your cat just ate!


There’s politics on the radio
And on the internet.
There’s politics on the tele
In case the people forget.
There’s no politics in the street
No matter who you meet.
There’s leaflets through the letter box
And posters in the shops
Telling you which party
Means to come out tops.
You can vote for Labour
For Tory or Lib Dem
As for the UKIP party:
Please don’t vote for them!

You can volunteer to canvas
If you really would like
So long as you don’t join
Theresa on her hike.
I’m thinking to vote for Jeremy
He looks so inofensive.
The Torys seem to have lifestyles
that are very expensive.
If they wont keep quiet
Till after the 8th June
I may go to Australia
Or even to the moon.
But I bet Theresa May
Would even find me there
With her hard electioneering
And perfectly combed hair.
For if I hear her repeated
comments about playing it tough
I will just switch off everything.
Because I’ve had enough!


Does the bedroom mirror flatter me?
When I go outside who do I see?
In every shop window I pass,
An old crone reflected in the glass!

Does the bathroom mirror tell the truth
Or a falsehood with this image of youth
And beauty. How did you guess?
It’s the shop windows that are a mess!

The plastic models with figures slender
Will never feel a caress tender.
With clothes that I’m too large to wear!
And they have such perfect hair!

It might be better to avoid the town
And prevent myself from feeling down,
By not going out to protect my grace
Now home seems like the safest place!


A place is not a fish
Because it doesn’t have an ‘i’ in it.
A fish is not a place
Because it doesn’t have an’e’.
I stand to be corrected
For my spelling has no why in it?
The right pronunciations have
Often baffled me.
A mote is not a moat
Because there is no ‘a’ in it.
Decisions can be reached,
But we don’t have our say.
Money can be sweet,
But you always have to pay with it.
Most poets that we meet
Give it all away.

A hole is not the whole;
It hasn’t got the space in it.
A goal is not a goal
When it’s disallowed.
A courtship’s not much fun
Unless there is some chase to it.
Strange to say achievements
Sometimes make the Devil proud.
To be well bread;
There is good taste to it.
Being easily led can way you down.
Being forced to weight
Might include time’s waste to it.
But timing may be urgent
When you must get out of town.

When there is cheese to great.
Oh! The wonder of it!
Spread on Dover Soul
Near the deep sea.
When there is a storm
We hear the thunder of it
And listen to our Maker’s poetry.
The poets get it write
When they see the scan of it
But it doesn’t mean they’re right
With each verse.
Yesterday I started this
And somehow ran with it
But now I need a psychiatric nurse!