I LOVE MY LINES AND WRINKLES

 

 I love my lines and wrinkles,

They took decades to acquire.

They show wisdom and maturity -

To which we all aspire.

 

I regard them as trophies

Of good times and bad

When life was full of happiness  -

And when life was sad.

 

So why should anybody pay

An exorbitant amount

To try and airbrush out the past

As if it didn’t count?

 

Nip-and-tuck – face lift ..

These simple words can cover

Side effects from which it can

Take ages to recover.

 

And when folk keep staring,

They’re not admiring you

But wondering why you don’t look

As you used to do.

 

A tight expressionless face

When you’re 70-plus is bizarre,

So let us leave our lines and wrinkles

Just the way they are.

 

 

 

9.11.12

To J. – with love

 

 

BECAUSE I'M WORTH IT

BECAUSE  I’M WORTH  IT …  

Last week at the Dentist’s Surgery

I picked up a glossy beauty mag.

It told me what I should do

When I started to sag.

 

Don’t bother with diets and gyms, it said

Go straight for the surgeon’s knife

Your youthful looks will help you cope

With modern competitive life.

 

A simple face lift is so common

Everyone has one in this day.

It removes all lines and wrinkles –

The years just fall away.

 

Farewell drooping bosom;

Implants will enlarge and lift your bust,

Liposuction reduces spare tyres –

Well that’s an absolute must.

 

A botox jab may be toxic, but

Signs of age vanish without pain,

However, if the dose is wrong

You may never smile or frown again.

 

The whole works cost an arm and a leg

More than a luxury cruise,

But you know you are worth it,

So treat yourself, you can’t lose.

 

I’m solvent!  I’ve paid my debts

I’m beginning to forget all the pain,

So now I’m told to start saving

To do it again – and again.       September 2002

PEARS GALORE

We have an un-named pear tree,
We love its blossom and shade,
And fruit comes as a bonus
Once in each decade.
                                              This year we had a bumper crop.

The pears have a delicate flavour
i.e. no taste at all,
But my thrifty nature means
I must use them when they fall.
                                                 And we have a bumper crop.

Our pears supply a meal to
Many a type of grub,
There're the base of the food chain
A culinary hub,                         
                                                  And we have a bumper crop.

What can you do with
Hundreds of tasteless pears?
Even the starlings did not
Take their usual shares
                                                   Of our bumper crop.

The fridge and freezer are full of
Purees - chutney - pud.
I hope we never again have
A harvest so bountifully good
                                                   As this bumper crop of pears.

August 2012

OLD AGE IS NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED

                                                                     109

When I woke up this morning
I thought of all I had to do -
Meals to cook - dishes to wash
Hoovering and dusting too.

The garden needs attention
And I must mow the lawn.
My allotment is full of weeds -
Neglected and forlorn.

As I lay there worrying
About my long work list,
I remembered an appointment
That could not be missed.

I was due to call on a dear friend
And despite our difference in years
With kindred spirit friendships
The age gap completely disappears.

Our discussions used to range
Over every subject 'neath the sun
And we leapt with ease from one topic
To another one.

My friend is now physically frail,
But her mind is sharp as a pin,
So she knows all too well
The state that she is in.

She's aware of the need for a hoist
And sleeping in a bed with rails,
Waiting to be taken to the toilet -
And the problem that entails.

She hears the concealed impatience -
The patronising voice,
Rubbish TV runs constantly
But she has no choice.

So when I think of all the work
That is waiting for me,
I remind myself to be grateful
That I can drive and walk and see.

To B.N.
April 2012

THE SAT NAV

I have a lady sat nav,
Her voice is calm and low,
She navigates so accurately -
Tells me where to go.

As I approach a roundabout
I'm told which road to take -
There's no reproach if I go wrong
And make a silly mistake.
                                                    Re-calculating she says

"Turn left" she then says
But I forget and turn right -
There is no ranting and raving
She remains perfectly polite.
                                                     Re-calculating.

And if I were to take
A wrong route yet again
She'd put me right so patiently
No sign of stress or strain.
                                                     Re-calculating

My sat-nav lady is wonderful
In my hour of need
But I fear that soon I'll be
Unable to map read.

June 2012
                                                                             

APRON STRINGS 107

When your children are infants
The bond is very tight,
They're on your mind each moment
Of every day and night.

You wonder how you'll manage
When they are not there,
When they no longer need - or want
Advice - concern and care.

The apron strings must be undone
And I think it is a good rule
To give the knots their very first nudge
Before your child starts school.

At first progress is very slow
So many knots must be undone
By the time your child is eighteen
You should be down to one.

You must loose the final knot
To prepare them for flight
But they must part the final strands
When they feel the time is right.

The apron strings are parted now,
But I always will maintain
No matter how long the knots have been free
The creases will always remain.

1988
To J and C (with love)

WADIA HOUSE AND WATER

Life in India has its aggravations
And we in Wadia House have ours too
They may not be global disasters, but
Minor trials are major, when they're happening to you.

Our main problem is water
It fills almost every waking thought,
Will we have a good supply today,
Or will everyone go short?

Twice a day the anguished drama
Rises to a stressful peak.
Has municipal water started to flow
Or has the mains pipe sprung a leak?

Then there's our old water pump,
It's temperamental and tired.
Though our mechanic does his best,
His skills leave a lot to be desired.

At last we hear the welcome sound
But too soon it fades away
The silent suspense is electric ...
Will we have another waterless day?

Advice and recriminations
Issue loudly from every door,
But our man is a robust individual
And of insults he has a goodly store.

At last we all hear with relief
The familiar vibration and thump -
Celestial choirs couldn't sound as sweet
As our clanking, rattling, ancient water pump.

Dedicated to my Wadia House friends with whom I shared
the daily drama. 

1994

RAJ TO REPUBLIC 105

Life was complex in the days between
Republic  and Raj,
As "now" and "today" gradually merged
With "ubhi" and "aaj".

From Indian culture we held aloof
Though we could speak the local tongue
Despite generations India born
To Western ways we clung.

As Indianization and emigration
Proceeded apace,
Our numbers fell and we became
A rapidly vanishing race.

Not everyone left India
As soon as independence came
We stayed on - finished school -
And life went on the same.

India never lets her children go -
No matter where they roam,
When you return to the land of your birth
You know you have come home.


From an Anglo Indian point of view.

MY PERSONAL POLTERGEIST

                                                                           CIV
When I heard about poltergeists
It really made my day,
At last I knew why things vanished
In such a mysterious way.

I've been called untidy,
But now I realise
I wasn't to blame when items
Disappeared before my eyes.

So whenever I lose my purse
(Which happens regularly)
I blame the poltergeist for moving it -
And hiding my key.

Spectacles are prime targets,
And a favourite ploy
Is to return them when I've given up,
He knows how to annoy.

I have pens a-plenty
But in his malicious way
The poltergeist finds my favourite pen
And hides that one away.

I put something in a safe place
Or file it away with care
Then when I want it - it's vanished,
And I can't find it anywhere.

When the items eventually return -
And they nearly always do -
They're either in a a most peculiar place
Or sitting in full and open view.

When my husband says I've lost something
My conscience will be clear,
Instead of arguing I'll just say
"It was the poltergeist, my dear."

MOTHERS' DAY

                                                                        C111  (103)

Show your mother that you care -
All the adverts urge,
If you've neglected her all year
Your conscience it will purge.

Buy her flowers and chocolates
Take her out to dinner
Send a big and flowery card -
That should be a winner.

Buy a Blackberry or Kindle
Get some tickets for a show;
This is not the time to
Think of cost you know.

And once you have convinced her
You're a devoted offspring
You can forget all about her
Until Mothers' Day next Spring.

March 2012

PROBLEMS NEED PERSPECTIVE

                                                                     CII  (102)
I've just had a horrible week,
Everything that could go wrong - did.
I was 2 minutes over parking time
And it cost me thirty quid.

My car did not want to start
When it did a tyre was flat,
I saw a chip on the windscreen
Now what on earth what did that.

I slipped, twisted an ankle
And fell with a painful crash;
It was only sprain thank goodness,
Not a break or a smash.

Then we had a power cut
And when the lights came on
The telephone was not working -
All computer connections had gone.

The weather has been terrible,
Gales - sleet - snow and rain;
I felt really fed up
And started to complain ...

Then I thought of the Japanese
Their suffering - stoicism - restraint.
My problems are mere pinpricks
I'll not utter a word of complaint.

January 2012
First anniversary of the Japanese earthquake and tsunami.

BOMBAY - CITY OF CONTRASTS

                                                                      101

This is a tribute to Bombay
The city of my birth
A place of enormous contrasts.
Wealth and squalour - sorrow and mirth.

The rich live in luxury dwellings
With everything money can buy,
Marble floors - silks and jewels,
If they want it, no price is too high.

The poor live by the roadside,
Running water's the drain overflow,
They live and they die on the pavement,
There's nowhere else they can go.

It's a town of many contrasts,
Religions - colours - creeds
There is generosity - kindness
And corrupt and evil deeds.

Near squalid, rat-infested slums
Where mange dogs root around,
In small patches of tropical green
Birds and butterflies abound.

It's a chaotic, congested city,
But the sunshine seldom fails.
|It's a measure of our tolerance
That peace nearly always prevails.


January 29th 1988

IT'S GOOD TO TALK and TALK and TALK

                                                                100
Some people cannot live without
Their personal mobile phone
A chattering companion
So that they're never alone.

They carry their phones everywhere
In case someone should call,
Or stand there - like Thisby -
Talking to a wall.

Even the rising cost of calls
Does not seem to deter
A compulsive conversationalist
Or true entrepreneur.

They ring in buses, trains and tubes
And I've heard their warbling call
Above the sound of an orchestra
In the Royal Albert Hall.

For many modern drivers
It is now de rigeur
To phone while they are driving -
Goodness knows how they change gear.

But the worst telephone-driver
Was a man I saw the other day
Exceeding the legal speed limit
In the usual M25 way.

His left hand held a telephone
His right lay on the steering wheel
From which he regularly lifted it
To emphasize or appeal -

Pointing and gesticulating
To his listener - unseen -
While driving somewhat erratically
On the highway of the Queen.

I've never had a car phone,
They're useful, I'm sure
And if I saw any dangerous driving
I could  always telephone the law.


July 1997

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SMOOTH YOUNG FACE...?

                                                                            XCIX

What happened to the smooth young face
That I used to see?
An older well-worn countenance
Now gazes back at me.

What happened to those youthful
Sparkling bright young eyes?
They're now fine-webbed with sunray lines -
Perhaps they are more wise.

Where is the alabaster brow
Untrammelled - free from care?
The marble is much older now
With cracks showing here and there.

What happened to the dimples
That dented in each cheek?
Where is the glossy nut brown hair
Shinning, thick and sleek?

I never will see them again
But it might help a bit
If I moved my mirror as far from the light
As the size of the room will permit.

June 1988

To me

THE PEDANT'S LAMENT

                                              XCVIII  (98)

As I get older I become
More annoyed and aggravated
By the Americanisms and bad grammar
That have been created.

When you ask: "How are you",
People reply: "I'm good"
Their morals are not my concern,
Could I say that? Wish I could.

"Like" instead of "as if"
Has been around so long,
Many people do not even
Realise that it is wrong.

Putting others first
Is a relic of time gone by,
So you hear "Me and my friends"
Instead of "My friends and I".

Extra words are added:
"Get off of" and "for free"
"You know" - "like" - "I mean" -
All quite unnecessary.

"I was sat there" is claimed to be
West country dialect;
Another way in which our lovely
Language has been wrecked.

And then we have
The wayward apostrophe.
Put in where it's not needed
And left out where it should be.

Some say that grammar doesn't matter -
Speech is just to communicate,
There's a word for this dumbing down
And the word is "mutilate"


13.12.2009.

PRINCE ALBERT'S REVENGE

                                                          XCVII  (97)

It's all your fault Prince Albert -
We have you to thank for this mess.
Our erstwhile green and shining fir tree
Can now be seen to possess ...

About half its original needles
And I know where the missing ones are:
Embedded in all the carpets,
In every room - and the car.

The English never liked Albert
Because of his Germanic roots,
They never fully appreciated
His many intellectual attributes.

Science and music were his interests,
But nobody cared about that,
So he inroduced the Christmas tree
In order to get his own back

Albert's revenge is still with us,
For as Christmas draws near
Houses are full of family,
Friends and seasonal cheer.

The average household is crowded
So what do people do?
Bring in a great big fir tree -
Some prickly holly boughs too.

The tree sits there - green and glossy
With fairy lights all aglow
But soon the warming effects of
Central heating start to show.

Every day the quantity
Of needle drop gets worse
And dogs and people help them
To spread and to disperse.

Even after twelfth night
It's not the end - I fear,
For weeks dead pine needles
Continue to appear.

To beat Prince Albert's curse
The only real remedy
Is to go and buy yourself
A needle-less, plastic pine tree.

December 2011

THE TWELVE DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

                                         XCVI  (96)  (This is my favourite verse.)

A sweet bird-loving country girl
Won the heart of a noble Lord.
His family did not approve
And hoped he'd soon get bored.

He sent his love a partridge
In a Conference pear tree
(At least that's what he said it was
As no leaves could he see.)

Two turtle doves then winged their way
Pursued by three French hens.
Four calling birds brought up the rear
Low flying o'er the glens.

But when he gave her five gold rings
Part of his family wealth,
They knew the time had come to act
With guile and secret stealth.

They said "to win your love
With large birds you must woo her."
Six laying geese and seven swans
Soon found their way to her.

He had no message from his love -
"Send servants" said his mother,
So he despatched eight milking maids
He'd borrowed from his brother.

"Send her men" his uncle urged,
Some nobles would be nice,
Nine lords leapt with alacrity
Before he could ask twice.

"Try music" urged his sister,
So the amorous young man
Sent drummers and dancers
And the pipes of the next door clan.

Those pipers were the final straw,
No more could she take,
Their riotious carousing
Had kept the maid awake.

Her family grew quite desperate
They knew not what to say,
They watched their farm deteriorate
With every passing day.

The swans were hissing at the geese
The drummers and pipers were fighting
The lords and ladies gaily danced
On next year's crop alighting

The maid returned the noble's gifts,
Thank you my Lord" said she,
I've only kept the partridge -
And it was a damson tree.

But one of your young drummer boys
Prefers this country life,
So he is going to stay behind
And I'm to be his wife.

1.1.1989

CHRISTMAS ROUND ROBIN

                                                        XCV  (95)

Every year at Christmas
Newsletters start to appear
And many circular swallows
Will be heading for me - I fear.

They're written in the third person.
Why should this be so?
Is there a round-robin etiquette
Of which I do not know?
###########
Jack and Jill have been working hard
(It's always the same)
Then they go and drop in
An unfamiliar name.

New Year saw the family
Skiing on Swiss mountain slopes.
Jill's a devoted and caring mum
It's amazing how well she copes.

The children excel at music and sport
They are extremely bright kids,
Jack's laptop came along too
For urgent business bids.

Jack and Jill jetted off to the Maldives
For some quality time together
Relaxing and unwinding -
They could rely on the weather.

Well, that's all from us,
We're spending Christmas in Spain -
Looking forward to all your news
I'll write next year again.

p.s. Happy Christmas!

MEMORY

                                                   XCIV (B.94)

What an efficient computer
Is the human memory
And what a very good one
My model used to be.

It stored billions of memories
Cross linked to smell and sound
And in a fraction of a second
Information could be found.

I never forgot a name or face
Or an anniversary
And millions of useless details
Were stored in my memory.

But as the decades rolled past
I was dismayed to find
A fall off in performance
Of memory and mind.

My memories of the distant past
Are all still crystal clear
But my short term memory is becoming
Shorter by the year.

My hard disc must be nearly full -
It's well past the half century.
A new hard disc is what I need
But then - I would not be me.

There is a silver lining to this cloud
(And one can always be found)
I can enjoy the same book or film
Many, many times around!


June 1995 - and things haven't improved.

COMPUTERS WERE INVENTED TO ANNOY US.

                                                   XCIII (93)

I'm sorry that your photographs
Disappeared in space -
Perhaps they are now being looked at
By a distant alien race.

All computers are evil
And malevolent creatures,
Driving their users to a fury
Is one of their main features.

We might think we own them,
But really they own us.
We let them take us over
We didn't make a fuss.

They make us log on every day
And if we do not
Viagra ads. fill our in-box
Junk mail - spam - the lot.

If we get ideas above our station
And think that we're the boss
Our computer promptly crashes
And makes us incredibly cross.

But if we approach them
With a meek and humble mien
They might let us see what we want
On our computer screen.

November 2006

Euthanasia

                                                             LXXXVII

I always write in the present tense, but the verses are not  always autobiographical.

When I was young I thought
Euthanasia was a good idea -
Who would want to live if they couldn't
Run - or see - or hear?

When I reached my sixties
I was not too sure,
Life isn't only about fitness
There is so much more.

In your seventies walking slows
As joints begin to fail,
All too soon you are on
The hip replacement trail.

All through your eighties
Mobility gets worse,
The natural ageing process
Is impossible to reverse.

But even if you're no longer
Too steady on your feet
Life is still worth living
Life can still be sweet.

Now that I have reached the age
When it might apply -
Remove DNR from my notes
I do not want to die!


(DNR - do not resusitate)
July 2006

FIVE-A-DAY

                                                     LXXXVI  (86)

Fruit and veg are good for you -
You must have five a day
It is the latest theory
What food experts all say.

Some people get quite worried
If they've only eaten four
And determine to do better
With five - or six -  or more.

And  how much is a portion?
I really wish I knew,
For I might eat too many -
Or worse still - too few.

Now we're told that salads
Can harbour e-coli -
Not a word from lettuce lovers
Don't you wonder why?

After wrecking Spain's salad trade
The Germans were forced to concede
That it was their deadly bean sprouts
That did the dastardly deed.

Advice on our diet keeps changing
And until it once again flips
I'm restricting my veggie intake
To mushrooms, baked beans and chips.

To R.B.
June 2011

MOBILE PHONES

                                                      LXXXV

I walked beside the River Bourne
Into my local town -
The autumn sun glowed on leaves
Of yellow, red and brown.

Above the murmuring motorway
Birds twittered loud and clear,
I passed a pretty young woman
With a phone clamped to her ear.

She chattered away continuously
Who said what - to whom,
The sort of personal things you say
When you're alone in a room.

She didn't see the sunset sky,
Or hear the church bells ring;
She didn't notice people
Or  hear the blackbird sing.

Children and dogs passed her by
But her glazed eyes completely missed
All the beauty and interest around
For her, they did not exist.

Then she started texting
With concentration supreme,
There was nothing in her world
But the eerily glowing screen.

Mobile phones are useful,
That no one can deny,
But users ignore their surroundings
Life just passes them by.


Bourne Meadows,
September 2005

OUR GRANDMOTHERS DIDN'T NEED HEALTH CLUBS

                                                             LXXXIX

In the good old days - long past -
A woman's work was never done,
Her household chores continued
From dawn to set of sun.

Household mod. cons didn't exist -
The average mother and wife
Accepted constant physical work
As part of her everyday life.

She didn't know that it was
An ideal keep-fit regime,
For her a calm and relaxing day
Was a dim and distant dream

She started washing on Monday
But did not realise
That mangling firm the upper arms
And walking tones the thighs.

Stirring a boiling copper
Slims the midriff and tum
And the hard Victorian seats
Did wonders for the bum.

A vigorous walk to the shops
Was an aerobic workout - what's more
Living in an unheated house
Burns calories galore.

Then housewives saw with joy
The convenience era arrive -
Warm and labour-saving houses
Now we don't walk - we drive.

But women found that in spite of
The healthy low-fat food they ate
Muscles lost their firmness -
And they put on weight.

So now we spend a fortune
Going to a health club and gym
To replicate the domestic tasks
That kept our grandmothers slim.

July 2002

LOVE - A WIDE RANGE OF MEANINGS

                                                           LXXXVIII

With a language as rich as English
It's really very strange
That the verb "love" is used
To cover such a wide range.

It describes how we feel about
Chocolate -  a tree -  a flower,
And your feelings for your newborn
Within the very first hour.

We use it to refer to Spring
Or Summer - and the sun,
A spouse or a lover,
A best-beloved one.

It's used in connection with
A country or cuisine
And family relationships
Deep rooted in the gene.

It's used for a hobby
A game or favourite sport
And the sort of friendships where
Time and distance count for naught.

How many words do the French have
To cover the experience of l'amour?
In English I think we need
At least a couple more.

But strangely - even though
The same word is used
For a continuum of emotions -
We don't seem to get confused.

July 2003

THE MOST EXPENSIVE FLESH

                                               LXXXVII (87)

What's the most expensive flesh
The world has ever known?
Pound for pound I think that
It could well be my own.

More expensive than smoked salmon,
Porterhouse steak or caviar?
I'll tell you why I believe
That I'm the winner by far.
...............
I decided that I simply
Had to lose some weight.
The body in the birthday suit
Was in a sorry state.

I joined a special club
To help me watch my weight
And apart from a joining fee
I had to pay on the gate.

I bought diet books and magazines
Exercise tapes and videos
And to provide incentive,
A small size in clothes.

I went to a keep fit centre,
Spent a week at a health farm -
Even though it cost me
A leg - and an arm.

After months of this regime
I found to my dismay
Only an ounce or two of fat
Had been slimmed away.

When the loss and cost are balanced
I think you will agree
That the world's most expensive flesh
Must belong to me!

April 1995

STAMINA COMES WITH MATURITY

                                                            LXXXVI

 "Stamina comes with maturity"
Well, I like the idea
And it's the sort of statement
That you very often hear.

I sure some expert said it,
Though I can't remember who
I find it a consoling thought
When I'm struggling to do ..

As much as I used to
In my immature young days,
There must be compensations to
The "getting older" phase.

I'm sure that there are many,
Though they escape my mind.
Does one become more diplomatic? 
More tolerant?  More kind?

I know my memory is not as good
As it used to be
And without my reading glasses
I really cannot see.

So as grey hair and wrinkles
Slowly creep up on me,
At least I can look forward to
The stamina of maturity.

June 1998

Decided to change to a larger font to make it easier to read!

I'M GLAD I'M NOT BEAUTIFUL

                                                                LXXXV

I'm told that beautiful women
Find it harder to cope with age
Than their plainer sisters
When they reach that certain stage.

If you've always seen a lovely face
In the mirror every day,
Wrinkles must be distressing
And hair that's thin and grey.

There are clinics that offer liposuction,
Botox and a face lift;
The family can pay for a boob job
As a Christmas or birthday gift.

These measures are expensive
And alas, alack one fine day
You'll find that your face has crumpled again
And your loveliness faded away.

If you never have been pretty
The problem does not arise,
You don't expect to see beauty -
You are used to averting your eyes.

I am glad I was not born a beauty
(Looks are but surface sham)
With long shapely legs and thick glossy hair ....
Oh what a liar I am!

February 2011

AN EXPENSIVE CLOTHES-HORSE

                                                LXXXIV      (84)

My doctor said that I should
Lose weight - and get in trim,
So I decided that I would
Join a local gym.

It cost a lot to join up
But at least it meant I could
Swim and work out every day -
That would do me good.

But as always happens
Life got in the way.
I couldn't get there once a week,
Don't mention once a day.

I will be going on holiday soon
And I really must
Put muscles on my flabby thighs
And firm up my bust.

Forget about the money
I'll buy an exercise machine,
Something comprehensive for
My keeping fit regime.

It was an expensive investment
But as the salesman said,
Keeping fit will be as easy as
Falling out of bed.

After the first few weeks
It wasn't touched at all.
For years it has been leaning
Up against the wall.

Will it ever be used again?
Perhaps - but goodness knows;
I now have an expensive stand
On which to throw my clothes!

September 2005

AUTUMN IS ...

                                                 LXXXIII

Autumn is ...

A time of mists and mellow fruitfulness...
And cars that will not start.
My car is old
As nights grow cold
Getting it going is an art.

Our garden is gossamer webbed
With dew drop bright shining beads.
The battery is dead,
So my neighbour said
Now where did I put the jump leads?

Each chestnut leaf's carefully outlined
With a warm rusty-gold Autumn hue.
Shall I bump start it?
Oh damn and blast it.
Perhaps just a good kick would do.

Could I have flooded the engine?
Perhaps the spark plugs are not clean
Is my fan belt on right?
Or is it too tight?
I do not understand this machine.

The holly trees glow in the sunlight
And under them scuffles a wren.
How I hate this car.
Shall I sell it?  Ah!
The engine turned over just then.

I'm sure I need more exercise
And I know just what I should do.
Get rid of this vehicle
And buy a cycle.
It'll save money on petrol too!

October 1980
To H.B.
We all drove old cars in the 1980s and this verse is dedicated to a friend
 who regularly had problems starting his car.

LIBRANS

                                                     LXXXII
(Happy birthday D.H.)

I recently came across
An old astrology book
It was so fascinating
I had to have a look.

I've always thought that Libra
Was the best astrological sign -
Well of course I would say that
Because it's yours- and mine.

We are - it said - diplomatic,
Considerate, sympathetic and kind;
But it also credited us
With a sharp and cynical mind.

(Now think of Solomon -
As fair and just as could be -
I am quite convinced that
A Libran was he.)

We're peace-lovers and we need
A calm and peaceful life,
What really bothers us
Is arguments and strife.

They endow us with many
A less appealing trait:
They say we're extravagant and lazy
And that we procrastinate.

I thought I was indecisive -
But now I'm not too sure.
Even Librans are not perfect,
That would be a bore.

A pair of scales may not be
The most exciting sign
But it stands for fairness and justice
And I'm glad it's mine.

THE ANNUAL APPLE AVALANCHE

                                                 LXXXI

All through the Spring and Summer
We tend our apple tree
We feed and fertilise it
And keep the ground weed-free.

But now that Summer's over
And Autumn days have come
We have apples by the hundred
Apples by the ton.

We've boxes full of apples
In neat and tidy rows,
And every time I turn my back
The apple mountain grows.

Apples stewed and crumbled
Home made apple pie,
I don't think I can use them all
No matter how I try.

Apples pulped and frozen
Gallons of home-made wine.
We are not short of apples
But I am short of time.

Apples are pressed on friends who call,
What we need is a buyer,
But has the apple mountain shrunk?
No, it's grown even higher.

Stewed apples with custard,
Stewed apples with cream,
If I eat one more apple
I'm sure I'll turn pale green.

To B.C.
Remembering your bumper harvest,
Oct.1980

AN ENGLISH AUTUMN

                                                       LXXX

When winter's on the way,
Nature has a final fling
To finish her bronze and gold pigments
And clear her palette for Spring.

America's fall picture
Is too gaudy - to bright.
England's Autumn tapestry
Is a restrained, artistic delight.

A fluffy clematis shawl
On the hedgerow is spread;
The leaves are at their very best
Just before they're shed.

The elegance of a silver birch -
The beauty of a bronze beech -
The Autumn countryside refreshes
The parts no other time can reach.


December 1988

TATE MODERN

                                                                          LXXI

The Tate Modern is useful
If you've half an hour to kill.
All aspects of modern art are there
And Life - both moving and still.

Without lables you wouldn't know
What an exhibit was supposed to be
And I often find it hard to guess
What I am meant to see.

Little squares of colour -
Little swirls of paint
Might be bright and cheerful - but
A masterpiece it ain't.

What can we admire in
A wall that's painted grey?
Does it tell us something -
If so what does it say?

Black oblongs splashed against
A background of darkest red,
The artist is fussy about it's position
The Art lecturer said.

In this artistic country of ours
The best modern art could contribute
Was three-minute time-lapse film of
A bowl of decaying fruit.


This is from  a prejudiced viewpoint but - a painting had been hung upside down for quite a while
before the error was realised - and no one noticed!
May 2005
To H. and R.

MODERN REVEALING FASHIONS

                                                                      LXXI

On a recent visit to London
I was amazed at the way women dressed,
Exposing vast acreages
Of bosom and breast.

Granted it was very hot
But it is wrong to think that you'll
Be better in a tight and clinging top -
It will not keep you cool.

The colour range of cleavage
Was an interesting sight:
Ebony black - shades of brown -
Honey gold and white.

Then there is the condition
Known as "bosom bounce"
Young women don't walk smoothly -
They wobble and they flounce.

Men are understandably distracted -
I have seen a collision or two.
With so much visible pulchritude
What can a normal man do?

I have my own theory
On why necklines are so low:
If you'd paid a fortune for a boob job
Wouldn't you want it on show?


July 2010

FAT FREE DIETS

                                                                  LXX  

Some folk are so diet conscious,
So "healthy food" aware;
Low fat this - fat free that,
Full cream?  Don't you dare.

But there are some people
And I know a few -
Who disregard what the experts
Say that they should do.

They drink creamy full fat milk,
Not for them watery semi-skimmed.
And  they cook their pork chops
Before the fat has been trimmed.

Double cream and yoghurt,
Cheese that is full fat -
But, - they're slim with low cholesterol,
Now how unfair is that?

To Joy
October 2010

BOMBAY BUSES

                                                            LXIX (69)

B.E.S.T. - the company that runs the buses of Bombay

BEST drivers and conductors
Work together as a team,
Considering the daily hassles they face,
One cannot help but hold them in esteem.

Do the drivers go to a special school
To perfect their jerky, jolting drive,
To learn how to let the clutch in
So that passengers and engine just survive?

Are they taught how to hit the brakes,
And as our balance we regain,
To take the foot off abruptly
So that we all fall over once again?

Jabbing the accelerator constantly
Helps to keep us on our toes,
Hones the perfect sense of balance
That every  bussing Bombay-ite shows.

Their steering skills however are superb
Avoiding people, cycles, cows and cars.
In wide and busy main streets
And narrow, twisting back-street bazaars.

Conductors need a different set of skills,
They must be slim, with all-seeing eyes
To extract fares from pinioned passengers,
Very few dodge payment I|'d surmise.

It must take years of experience
To know just when to ring the bell
Before everyone has got on -
It's an art at which they all excel.

The sunniest of natures will be soured
If nothing but brickbats come their way
And they never ever receive
A small - and occasional bouquet.

This verse is not a criticism
Of the B.E.S.T. fraternity.
Without their many specialist skills
How much duller life in Bombay would be.

3rd November 1955

WAR GRAVES

                                                               LXVIII

Gravestones standing to attention
On parade for all eternity.
In lines of military order
Each one a separate tragedy.

Although many decades have passed
You sense the sorrow and grief.
Their adult life was stolen -
War is a terrible thief.

They were not just soldiers
They were husbands - fathers - sons.
Women prayed their men would be
Among the lucky ones.

How many strong and brave young men
Were cut down in their prime
What a futile waste of life -
War is the ultimate crime.

Brookwood cemetery, Surrey.

August 1988

LAKELAND LADIES

LXVII


 I love to walk in the country -
I'm going there next week
But that does not mean that I
Intend to be less chic.

My clothes are all designer made
And so are my shoes
Pure silk scarves and soft kid gloves
Are what I always choose.

I wear suede leather brogues
And pale cream trouser suits
Unlike those hearty females
Who sport heavy climbing boots.

They stride out ostentatiously
Heavily clad and shod -
I envied them when the path became
A marshy, swampy bog.

The walk was wet and muddy
I've ruined my linen slacks -
Perhaps there is something to be said
For climbing boots and macs.

July 1988

This does not refer to me -
but to an elegant lady I
saw on Catbells, near Keswick.

STOVE CIRCLES LXVI

In mankind's early days
When civilization was in sight
Our ancestors had a barbecue
Almost every night.

They dined on free-range mammoth
Or additive-free deer,
And on feast days they would cook
An ostrich or a rhea,

Women always moan about
Their cooking facilities -
Said Mrs. Neanderthal "I need
A stone built fireplace, please."

"I want a covered kitchen"
The Stone-age housewife said,
"It would be so much easier
To keep the whole tribe fed."

"I must have a proper chimney"
Saxon woman cries,
"To let out all the smoke and soot
That gets into my eyes."

"If I don't have an oven"
Middle ages housewife said,
"How do you expect me to
Produce our daily bread?"

Stoves improved quite slowly
And we had a while to wait
Until the advent of the Aga
And gleaming black-lead grate.

Gas and electric cookers came next -
Now everything is micro-waved
So women have to go to work
To use the time they've saved.

We enjoy all mod-cons now
So that's our idea of fun?
Cooking expensive free-range meat
Outside in the rain or sun.

If our ancestors are watching
From somewhere in the heavenly sky,
They must be amazed when they see us
And wonder why they bothered to try.


September 1991

PINCH AN INCH (OR 2.54 CM) LXV

Decimalization makes maths easier
But it's deprived our mother tongue
Of many vivid expressions
That over time have sprung ...

From Imperial measurements -
Decimals and metres aren't the same;
Perhaps their soulless repetition
And unvarying terms are to blame.

"A miss is as good as a mile"
Has an apt and punchy appeal,
But as good as 0.6 km?
That's no literary big deal.

"Getting a quart into a pint pot"
Was another picturesque old phrase
That everyone appreciated
In our parents' days.

When young a 24" waist
Was our goal and ideal
But a 61 cm waist
Doesn't have the same appeal.

Men have always admired
Marilyn's 40" bust
But if it was merely one metre -
What would that do for male lust?

We can visualise yards, feet and inches
With accuracy - and ease.
We carry the standards with us
And can check them whenever we please.

Without decimal measures
Science would be left in the lurch,
But leave us our pounds, feet and inches -
Our mediaeval rod, pole and perch.


July 2000
To RB

ROBOT RUN RESIDENCE (LXIV

We have an automatic house
It runs on well oiled wheels
No one needs to clean it -
Or cook any meals.

Our dinners all prepare themselves -
Breakfast and lunch like-wise
Including all the vitamins
That food experts advise.

And after clothes have been worn
What do you think they do?
They leap back into the cupboard
Washed and dried - folded too.

Food appears on larder shelves -
No slow supermarket queue.
Library books renew themselves
Before they become overdue.

We have a bathroom robot
And that must be true,
For no one ever needs to clean
The basin, bath or loo.

We crawl out of bed in the morning
And sometime during the day
The counterpane creeps over the bed
And the wrinkles all go away.

As everything runs by itself
I have nothing to occupy my day
And have to resort to writing bad verse
To keep the boredom at bay.


Summer 1982

UNTIDYNESS IS A GIFT (Lxiii

One of the greatest gifts
With which I have been blessed
Is the ability to live with chaos
Without getting stressed.

Some friends have Ideal Homes
That I greatly admire,
But to that level of perfection
I know |I could never aspire.

There are women who cannot relax
If a single cushion is unplumped,
But I can sit in a clutter of books,
Restful and comfortably slumped.

I knit or sew as I watch TV
And when I can't stop yawning
I go to bed and leave the debris
To clear up in the morning.

Unlike a lady who tidied up
Before she went to bed
In case they had a burglary -
That's what her husband said.

My garden is a natural one -
It is not tidy I fear
But something is in flower
Every day of the year.

To strive for perfection is admirable
But there can be a high cost,
Stress - worry - anxiety -
And I'm glad I lost.

January 2008