I have many questions
That
are not my bailiwick
Why
is it so hard to recall
How
to spell mnemonic?
I have many questions
That
are not my bailiwick
Why
is it so hard to recall
How
to spell mnemonic?
The TV and radio airways are now awash
With
colloquial accents, no longer posh
Scouse
and Geordie slang pervade the ears
And
Brummie talk will bring a man to tears
Welsh
and Scottish tones dispense the news
Guttural
pronouncements from their shoes
The
new name for this invasion of your home
Known
as I.V.S. or irritable vowel syndrome
Can we have a pet dad?
How about some fish?
Swimming
in a tank
Oh, I wish, I wish, I wish
No,
we can’t have a pet son
And no, I don’t like fish
Swimming
in a tank
I like them poached lightly
on a dish
Can
we have a pet dad?
How about a hamster?
Running
on a wheel
Oh, can I have one sir
No,
we can’t have a pet son
No, I don’t like hamsters
Running
on a wheel
But baked in the oven with
roasters
Can
we have a pet dad?
How about a cat?
Purring
on your lap
What’s wrong with that?
No,
we can’t have a pet son
And no, I don’t like cat
Purring
on my lap
Curried though oh yes, I do
like that
Can
we have a pet dad?
How about a gerbil?
They’re
cuddly and cute
That would be a thrill
No,
we can’t have a pet son
And no, I don’t like a gerbil
Even
cuddly and cute
Except in white wine sauce
with dill
Can
we have a pet dad?
Now how about some mice?
They’re
not big like rats
They’d be very nice
No,
we can’t have a pet son
And no, I don’t like mice
Though
not big like rats
I like them served on a bed of rice
Can
we have a pet dad?
How about a rat?
They’re
cheap to keep
What do you think of that?
No,
we can’t have a pet son
And no, I don’t like rats
Even
I have standards
I think I would rather eat
my hats
Can
we have a pet dad?
How about a doggie?
Playing
with a ball
Much better than a moggie
No,
we can’t have a pet son
And no, I don’t like dogs
Playing
with a ball
But I do like to wok the
dogs
Can
we have a pet dad?
How about a parrot?
Chatting
on its perch
I’d like that a lot
No,
we can’t have a pet son
No, I don’t like them see
Chatting
on their perch
Because parrots repeat on me
After over twenty-five years together
Through
both foul and sunny weather
Sex
doesn’t seem the same anymore
The
flame has gone out that’s for sure
Love
making used to be spontaneous
Now
we have to achieve a consensus
And
the earth doesn’t move anymore
Even
moving the headboard’s, a chore
Then
we were young eager and supple
Now
we are a more sedentary couple
Then
we spent most of our time in bed
Now
we have a nice cup of tea instead
You know this brings a lump to my throat
My
wife has thrown out my favorite coat
She
did the same with trousers and slacks
Scuffed
trainers with squashed down backs
Baggy
knitted jumpers and old faded jeans
Joggers
with patches and oft repaired seems
When
will she learn what she does is a sin
Made jointly in Britain and France
This
thing of beauty and elegance
I
was at school when she first flew
It
would not be bested that I knew
When
a boy it was only a prototype
So
unique there was no need to hype
The
most beautiful sight I ever saw
Impossible
not to be left in awe
I
thought it was a fantastic dream
Revolutionary
as harnessing steam
An
example of the designer’s art
Shaped
like a hi-tech paper dart
To
see the white lady gracefully soar
And
hear the Rolls Royce engines roar
Brian
Trubshaw brought her to life
Cutting
through the ether like a knife
Its
painted livery reflecting bright
While
achieving supersonic flight
Apparently
not everyone is a fan
Not
seeing the achievement of man
The
have-nots looked on with envy
Was
it the craft of the bourgeoisie?
The
powers that be in their wisdom
Have
grounded this phenomenon
The
news brings tears to my eyes
As
she’s no longer to grace our skies
So,
what’s to become of the Concorde?
The
graceful lady so much adored
The
destiny of the planes is a done deal
Broken
for scrap or sale piecemeal
As
if taken out of service is not enough
Pieces
will be sold on eBay to a buff
Or
maybe something even more bizarre
To
be used as ornaments or Object d’art
No
more chance of traveling deluxe
Were
left to the flying cattle trucks
The
Lumbering giants defying gravity
With
Bigger payloads and longevity
Homosexuality is not a disease
Nor is it against God or his word
And being “Different” is not a crime
It is neither unnatural nor abhorrent
No one cares if Adam loves Steve
Instead of loving Eve
There is no right way or wrong way
For matters of the heart
What matters is that they feel love
Love is indifferent to philosophy,
Theological perspective or social acceptability
There is no good love or bad love
There is no right love or wrong love
There is only love
And any relationship founded on love
Has my blessing