Thought you might like to view a couple of me poems this time.
I'm not very good at food receipes. (see Grayling) :-)
My Mobile Phone
I had a trusty mobile phone it really was the best
I loved it heart and soul, it was better than the rest
I dropped it in a glass of wine that I call "wonky neck"
That's J.P. Chenet if you really care a feck
It needed warmth and heat I thought to dry its little innards
So I put it in the airing cupboard alongside all me knickers
With shaking hands I took it out it looked ok to me
I took a chance and plugged it in and waited just to see
Wether my little mobile phone would work again for me
A tiny drop of blood oozed out or maybe it was wine
It coughed and spluttered in torment that little friend of mine
Then it died a death so awful it really was unkind
What a way to go though - drowning in red wine
**************(c)tkg. 02/2008*****************
The Supermarket Trolley
It stands in a line just waiting for me
That supermarket trolley for all to see
I fall for its charm every time
The new one thats shiny and 1st in the line
I know it will steer all over the place
I will end up with a red face
Why don't I take the tatty one at the end?
It looks pretty sad and could do with a mend
When will I learn that looks don't matter?
We only push it around and have a natter
I have to admit old ones work best
Truth to tell they've passed every test
Abused by shoppers and crashed into stands
Used time and again and been through many hands
But my pride is at stake image is the thing
The new shiny trolleys go with my "bling"
So struggle I will to steer it straight
My image looks good at any rate
How I envy the woman gliding with ease
She watches me struggling just to tease
With shopping done I vow once more
No more shiny ones I know the score
As I pass through the door they stand in a line
One is winking at me saying wait 'till next time
*************(c) tkg 02/2008**************
Wimbledon
Around comes June and its Wimbledon again
Brolleys out getting ready for rain
Strawberries and cream showers and sun
In their droves the fans all come
Tim our stalwart he always there
Henman Hill and yearly we all care
We get bitten nails, anguish and a tear
Will this one be Tim's year?
We live in hope that he can do it
Just this once let him beat Hewitt
Federa's the one if he gets that far
We'll toast his health and shout hurrah
Yet again he failed to win
It always seems such a sin
Next year isn't far away
And he lives to fight another day!
*************(c)tkg 02/2008)************
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