Sunday, 28 June 2015

Whatever Happened To Victor Value?

A wish to have a corner shop
Trade nitty-gritty bottom lines
Pick and choosing value items
Using a modicum of signs

With ideals like cost reduction
Applied to breaking prices down
Discarding wrappings wasteful dazzle
As a careless dressing gown

In blue and white a prudent parlour
A wiser choice of lesser bills
Where worth ensured a tied up berth
No names and no pack frills

The Manor Born

Jon a fine equestrian
Sits high upon his horse
A man of much inheritance
Of lineage of course

Not ever glad to suffer fools
Or those beneath his gaze
Woe to them of sad coincidence
Who bestow on Jon much praise

The lottery of happenstance
Fertile ocean mudded puddle
Where a hope of wealth creation
Imbues a place where you befuddle

Friday, 12 June 2015

My Favourite 'Matter of Fact'

When debating a ludicrous notion
If all is it at sea in the ocean
Or whether today is yesterday night
Maybe vanishing cream is a lotion

Is your point of view a promotion
From a lifetime of thoughtful devotion
Conjuring dreams of preferable schemes
close to inventing perpetual motion

Do black holes create by implosion
Does knowledge degrade with emotion
Is the colour of green a sign of serene
Born out of continual erosion

Do all things begin with commotion
Ground and mixed up in potions
Perhaps you and I are not what we see

Just products of timely explosions

This one teases the mind

Tuesday, 9 June 2015

We're Out Enjoying a Quiet Life

Too high the hill to freedom lost
Craving so to be pursued
Expounding every trivial thing
Trapped in endless drivel fused

The pressing interrupter bells
From faceless forms in absence
Compete and beat in undertones
Will interact eclipsing presence

Where you are no longer matters
To be at any place elsewhere
Leaving moments of reality
In distant hiding from despair

Give them a break, improve your child's potential introduce electronic free holidays.

Humble Pie

Feet of Strength!

 When surveying my ability
Crowning glorious facility
I cannot help but wonder
if it really is debility

Immersed in my civility
Deep sense of gloom and liability
No shake free leg to stand on
From far too much gentility

My work has credibility
Savoir faire almost nobility
Sometimes I can’t resist a scream
Please don’t view it as hostility

On the cusp of viability
Bestowing work of such virility
A world so packed, no elbow room
Digging ribs without humility

Dedicated to every rosebud not yet flowering in full bloom