ANY OLD PORT IN A STORM

I was stranded and lonely with time to kill
And I was looking for someone to cure my ill
They told me about the only available “miss”
Who went by the unkind name of ugly Agnes
“Left on the shelf, plain as a pike as a staff”
“Facing the wall” he said followed by a laugh
I figured she’d be better than nothing at all
The girl left on the shelf, facing the wall
They gave me some direction to follow
Where I crept to and peeked in the window
I spied her in the candle lights flicker
Legs akimbo showing a glimpse of knicker
This old maid, who’d been left on the shelf
Was sat home alone pleasuring herself
There was nothing homely about this old maid
As she caressed herself and erotically played
And as I watched her deft self seduction
I was anxious to make my introduction
Outside I banged hard on the front door
Inside I banged her hard on the floor
But the savage and primeval union
Led to a more tender sensual communion
What had begun as “any old port in a storm”
Ended with me proud to stay till the dawn
Now I often get stranded with time to kill
And I know where to go to cure my ill
The local call her Ugly Agnes or Plain Jane
But I go to love her again and again

RMS TITANIC

The finest ship of the White Star Line,
Titanic majestically sailed the brine
A floating palace of opulence
A thing of beauty and elegance

But beauty is but a fragile veneer
And conceals a truth more austere
Into the depths Europe’s poor, are thrust
Travelling in steerage like human ballast

The iceberg cut her stem to stern
But at first no one showed concern
Except the poor below the waterline
Where it quickly filled with Icy brine

“Only God himself could sink her”
It was claimed by an unknown author
The Titanic promoted by J. Bruce Ismay
Quickly sank to his utter dismay

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

When we first started dating
I had no expectation of forever
I was content with the immediate
And enjoyed each moment with her
All the mundane chatter
And flirtatious wordplay
Leading to the longing looks
And the sentimental words of love
Back then time evaporated,
Hours seeming to pass in seconds
And in all those moments
Precluding our life together
The one thing we never had was silence

But that was then and this is now
And now the silence deafens me
No more chatter
Words are used miserly
As if endowed with great value
And not to be wasted
On flirtation or sentiment
Words, when used, now bite
With venomous spite
Moments now last an eternity
Clocks that once seemed to race through time
Run now in slow motion
Her contemptuous looks wither me
Longing now for my extinction

SEPARATE

Sleeping separate nights
Living separate days
We live separate lives
Let’s go our separate ways

ABIGAILS TALE - ONE DAY VERY SOON

In the comfort of the coffee shop
Nestled into a sofa
Sits Abigail, homesick and sad
As she reads a letter from home

She knows the sadness will pass
And sooner this time than the last
It strikes each time a letter arrives from home
With news from those she left behind

Her parents, loving and kind
Her sister annoyingly lovely
All her friends of long standing
And of course him

She left her home town
The only place she had ever lived
After her marriage failed
So she is building a new life

Away from the people and places
Away from all the familiarity
That reminded her daily
Of her failure and her inadequacies

So she lives in a new town
And is making new friends
Discovering new familiar places
And trying to forget past mistakes

She has joined a new church
Where her angels voice
Sings in praise to heaven
And she is finding peace within herself

One day very soon Abigail will sit
In the comfort of the coffee shop
Nestled into a sofa
And not be homesick and sad

One day very soon Abigail will read
A long letter from home
And smile at it contents
And not feel the old pain strike

One day very soon
Abigail will let herself be happy
One day very soon
Abigail will forgive herself

MORNING DELIVERY

The sun slips beyond the horizon
Like a letter slips into an envelope
Where it will stay until the dawn
When the envelope reopens
Spilling its contents into the sky
Brightening the world
Lifting the heart with its delivery
Like a missive from a loved one

TAKING OFFENCE

People are so easily offended today
This is quite ironic really
As due to political correctness
We are censored so heavily
And with all the sanitising
There is so little opportunity
But those who do take offence
Fall into three distinct categories

Firstly, the genuinely offended
Those who feel the detriment,
Whose opinion is seldom heard
Unless it’s politically expedient

Second, the white middle class heterosexuals
Who like to be offended on others behalf
And are particularly suspicious
At anything that gets a laugh

Thirdly, come the professionals
Those who get offended for a living
They frequent the morning TV sofas
And are relentlessly unforgiving

The professionals feel no offence
But find their roles financially fulfilling
They will take umbrage for anyone
Just to earn another shilling

Even worse however is anticipated offence
Those who want to act just in case
Some unspeakable offence may be caused
If things are unchanged or left in place

The original intention may well have been
That a better society was planned
But what they have managed to do instead
Is to make the world more bland