I’m lying in bed
I’ve got the flu
Don’t want to get up
To go to the loo!
Every bone is aching
My head feels on fire
Oh why do I feel
Like I’m in the mire?
Oh how can I lay here
When there are jobs still to do
The dog needs a walk
And a meal to cook too.
Life just carries on
Even though it is tough
To just keep going
(Stop the world. I’ll get off)
I visit the Doctor
Now easier than said
He says just drink water
And go home to bed
I lay there in peace
And feel the warmth of my bed
I hope soon I’ll feel better
No more pain in my head
The only advantage
Of staying at home
Is that the Olympics are on
So why should I moan?
I have all the time
To watch the athletes compete
While I curl up
In my comfy seat.
I’ve followed the rules
And my temperature’s down
I’m starting to smile,
No continual frown
I wake up feeling good
I’m free from the pain
Good morning World
I feel human again!
Jenny Hamon
Eulogy For A Bat - Kathy Figueroa
A wisp of dusk, personified
Or should I say, 'animalified'
It grieves me, Bat
That you have died
A blight wracked your tiny body
Slight and brown
Stopped your flight
And struck you down
I wondered why
Not long ago
When the ground
Was cloaked with snow
As I looked outside
Late at night
I saw you swoop by
The electric light
"What could it possibly
Find to eat, now?"
Was on my mind
How could a bug
It hope to find
When all was frozen
White and still
I know now, Bat
That you were ill
In the shelter where
You were housed
To winters chill
You were roused
Then, in search of food
You left the safety
Of your home
Because of a plague called
'White Nose Syndrome'
This pestilential disease
Caused you to awaken
..Then starve.. then freeze..
So, sadly, your life was taken
You had great worth
In the grand scheme of things
As you flew over this earth
With fragile wings
Humans with no sense
Often like to say
That they are at the top
Of the food chain
Forgetting that black flies
And mosquitoes
Require warm blood to drain
And that, in this land
It's not unknown
For a person
To die of exposure
When lost in
The woods, alone
Should the word 'exposure'
Need to be explained
It can mean that the person died
Because too much blood was drained
So a bat is an answer
To a prayer for respite
And a defense
From the attack, from the bite
Of a blood hungry (possibly
West Nile Disease carrying) parasite
Though some folks
Might express fear if their path
With this creature, connects
It's good to remember that
In spring and summer
A bat can devour
From half to its entire
Body weight in insects
This critter should never be hurt
Or, by human hand, rendered dead
A bat should always be
Left alone, instead
So it can flourish and thrive
Because a bat is worth
Far more than gold, alive
One thing I know that could
Soon become very clear
Is that people
Will surely miss a bat
If bugs proliferate
And bats are no longer here
So Little Brown Bat
Myotis Lucifugus
Your good work I
Hereby, commend
And let it be known that
To humans and, indeed, to all
Warm blooded creatures
You were a friend
Kathy Figueroa
Or should I say, 'animalified'
It grieves me, Bat
That you have died
A blight wracked your tiny body
Slight and brown
Stopped your flight
And struck you down
I wondered why
Not long ago
When the ground
Was cloaked with snow
As I looked outside
Late at night
I saw you swoop by
The electric light
"What could it possibly
Find to eat, now?"
Was on my mind
How could a bug
It hope to find
When all was frozen
White and still
I know now, Bat
That you were ill
In the shelter where
You were housed
To winters chill
You were roused
Then, in search of food
You left the safety
Of your home
Because of a plague called
'White Nose Syndrome'
This pestilential disease
Caused you to awaken
..Then starve.. then freeze..
So, sadly, your life was taken
You had great worth
In the grand scheme of things
As you flew over this earth
With fragile wings
Humans with no sense
Often like to say
That they are at the top
Of the food chain
Forgetting that black flies
And mosquitoes
Require warm blood to drain
And that, in this land
It's not unknown
For a person
To die of exposure
When lost in
The woods, alone
Should the word 'exposure'
Need to be explained
It can mean that the person died
Because too much blood was drained
So a bat is an answer
To a prayer for respite
And a defense
From the attack, from the bite
Of a blood hungry (possibly
West Nile Disease carrying) parasite
Though some folks
Might express fear if their path
With this creature, connects
It's good to remember that
In spring and summer
A bat can devour
From half to its entire
Body weight in insects
This critter should never be hurt
Or, by human hand, rendered dead
A bat should always be
Left alone, instead
So it can flourish and thrive
Because a bat is worth
Far more than gold, alive
One thing I know that could
Soon become very clear
Is that people
Will surely miss a bat
If bugs proliferate
And bats are no longer here
So Little Brown Bat
Myotis Lucifugus
Your good work I
Hereby, commend
And let it be known that
To humans and, indeed, to all
Warm blooded creatures
You were a friend
Kathy Figueroa
Words - Martyn Legg
 |
| Wordle Picture Created by JCB |
Words - Martyn Legg
I place these thoughts upon the page
Expressing anger, full of rage
Broken promises and dreams
Endless nights and silent screams
Take these words and set them free
Let them be as they should be
I close the book the words are gone
Still the rage goes on and on
I place my heart within your hand
You know exactly where I stand
Fill these eyes with something new
Yet another glimpse of you
Words just come and then they go
There is no reason to their flow
Transcending time they state the pain
They speak of loss, they speak of gain
Could I control the way words fall
If I could live to use them all
Still there would be things left to say
Words enough to fill the day
Take these words and set them free…
Martyn Legg
Our World - James Willis
Living in between the rays of light strung from the windows of idleness, painted with the colours of your own loving taste.
Where is there an end where there is no beginning? How can you talk when your words just revolve in the circle of an unchartered sea of letters?
When can you explain it?
When can all souls see it and believe that it is you and that it is for the taking.
I want to carry away this thing and yet I cannot lift it from the ground where heroes stood. I am fought back with spears of forgotten wars and the basis of the constitution.
And yet we have wandered in leafy glades past towering love mansions where all noise is wondrous, sounds are voices of peace and loving, where nothingness grows, where friends live in yellow madness, where people are manufacturing the cloth of gladness, where the sovereign is in the trench and the common labourer sits on the throne and shoeless children carve their names on its legs and the elders come to paint pretty designs around those monuments of singular, named existence.
You and I, safe in our own shell of hardest resistance. Love is protecting us from the snatching steel claws of the world around us. The temptation wolves are baring their bus-ticket teeth, the salesmen are opening their treasure troves, promising us heaven and they only have hell. The policemen are wielding their insulated guns but the bullets bounce off our aura of morale. The tarmacadam shines of fresh steam-rollers where the rates have been and gone…..and the shell remains intact.
Where are we going? Where are the others? Where can we find the wanted, needed, required type of idol?
Where is the thing we are looking for? Show us the way…. The simple, easy going, free and easy, carefree life where idleness is the barricade against the prickles of the thorn bush world outside.
Porcupine of politics and magnetic, adhesive existence of deceit, hate, privacy invasion, sacrilegious, nosy, quarrelling, crushing, cheating, doublecrossing, conniving population of the world we left behind.
James Willis
Where is there an end where there is no beginning? How can you talk when your words just revolve in the circle of an unchartered sea of letters?
When can you explain it?
When can all souls see it and believe that it is you and that it is for the taking.
I want to carry away this thing and yet I cannot lift it from the ground where heroes stood. I am fought back with spears of forgotten wars and the basis of the constitution.
And yet we have wandered in leafy glades past towering love mansions where all noise is wondrous, sounds are voices of peace and loving, where nothingness grows, where friends live in yellow madness, where people are manufacturing the cloth of gladness, where the sovereign is in the trench and the common labourer sits on the throne and shoeless children carve their names on its legs and the elders come to paint pretty designs around those monuments of singular, named existence.
You and I, safe in our own shell of hardest resistance. Love is protecting us from the snatching steel claws of the world around us. The temptation wolves are baring their bus-ticket teeth, the salesmen are opening their treasure troves, promising us heaven and they only have hell. The policemen are wielding their insulated guns but the bullets bounce off our aura of morale. The tarmacadam shines of fresh steam-rollers where the rates have been and gone…..and the shell remains intact.
Where are we going? Where are the others? Where can we find the wanted, needed, required type of idol?
Where is the thing we are looking for? Show us the way…. The simple, easy going, free and easy, carefree life where idleness is the barricade against the prickles of the thorn bush world outside.
Porcupine of politics and magnetic, adhesive existence of deceit, hate, privacy invasion, sacrilegious, nosy, quarrelling, crushing, cheating, doublecrossing, conniving population of the world we left behind.
James Willis
The 2.6 Million Pound Drop - Stephen A. Roberts
No need for Davina
Don't give her a (Mc)call
2.6 million's been dropped
Through the trapdoor marked "fraud"
Skip all the questions
Go straight to the prize
"There's a loophole still open!"
The Guernsey taxpayer cries
The winning ticket as usual
Was sold to someone abroad
They've collected the cash and
It's all below board
Heads in our hands, the
Timing couldn't be worse
It's about fifty quid each
From a stretched public purse
But those crims from the mainland
(because we know it's them)
will find those green notes worthless
in their Nandos or H&M
Stephen A. Roberts
Don't give her a (Mc)call
2.6 million's been dropped
Through the trapdoor marked "fraud"
Skip all the questions
Go straight to the prize
"There's a loophole still open!"
The Guernsey taxpayer cries
The winning ticket as usual
Was sold to someone abroad
They've collected the cash and
It's all below board
Heads in our hands, the
Timing couldn't be worse
It's about fifty quid each
From a stretched public purse
But those crims from the mainland
(because we know it's them)
will find those green notes worthless
in their Nandos or H&M
Stephen A. Roberts
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)