Lucky - Edgar Allan Poet

They don’t come luckier than me:
I’ve not nine lives, I’ve ninety-nine.
In street-fights (I’ve had two or three)
or knife-fights, victory’s been mine.
I keep a trusty rabbit’s foot
in the breast-pocket of my suit.

When I see magpies, I see four.
Black cats, for luck, curl round my heels.
I find one coin then I find more.
Thrice blessed with luck is how it feels.
I ride in carriages by day,
go to my club and rarely pay.

But England’s far too tame for me
so to America I’ll sail.
In luxury, I’ll put to sea
on a new liner, massive scale,
de-luxe, designed to get there quick.
They’ve named the vessel, Titanic.

Edgar Allan Poet

The Great Guernsey Take-Off - Oscar Milde

It’s all become a real ordeal:
in peelings, she’s up to her eyes.

These damn pies of Potato Peel
will be the death of me! She cries.

He says. They’re great. Don’t ever doubt it.
One day they’ll make a film about it.

Oscar Milde

Memories of Scotland - Tony Bradley

I've spent many happy days with my lassie and crommack
trekking over the Highlands, the crags, and screes
the dark, deep waters of the misty lochs
as the eagle glides high, in the morning breeze.

Thro' leafy glades, sun's rays dance silver
in trickling streams below
Spring-scented flowers embroidering the
Highlands' green rolling vales
I lay mellow, for hours, on soft fragrant heather
or 'neath craggy rocks, shelter,
from my Scotland's strong gales.

Tony Bradley

Extinction - Donald Keyman

Do you remember saucy page three
It was a sight for sore eyes to see
And (wrongly it seems) we revelled in our misogyny

We were always down the shop for a pack of fags
And - back in the days before they were wrapped in bags -
a sneaky peek at the top shelf mags

Now I must admit I’m a little scared
About all the things that we maybe dared
Do, think or say when our trousers were flared

Now time has finally caught up with us
And wrinkled and grey, bemused by the fuss
This old white rhino bites the dust

Donald Keyman

Passing Through - Ian Duquemin

I sit here reminiscing
Of days long in my past
Those years have travelled swiftly
They've come and gone so fast
Those times spent round the campfire
Where flames danced through the night
Leaving smoldering embers
As dawn replaced its light

Those friends who were my brothers
In caravans called home
They were the closest family
That this man had ever known
We'd smoke what nature gave us
While music filled the air
What little we all had back then
We'd find enough to share

We found a place to settle
A road side with a view
Beside a rolling river
Like us just passing through
The hills a welcome shelter
The winters hard to bear
I'd never found a place called home
Like I had found right there

That fire keeps on burning
It warms my soul and heart
That family still remains with me
However far apart
And like that river passing through
We'll meet again sometime
I'll keep our fire burning
In this gypsy heart of mine

Ian Duquemin