THE ORANGE STOPPED AT THE TOP OF THE HILL

 

The Orange stopped at the top of the hill

Along with the Tangerine and a Honeydew

And the reason for that was crystal clear

Because each one had run out of juice

A WET DAY AND AN IGJURED LION

What's the difference between

A wet day and an injured Lion?

Well one is pouring with rain

The other is roaring with pain

FEVERISH

 

I don’t think I have swine flu

As I haven’t been to Mexico

But I don’t feel well at all

I feel like crap if you must know

I thought of the NHS for advice

On the flu and perhaps its tackling

So I phoned the swine flu hotline

But all I got was crackling

Uncanny Tales – (49) Kentish Holiday

 

My mum’s family were born and bred in Bermondsey, East London, at a time when poor really meant poor and there was no Welfare State safety net.

In those days you worked, or you went without and even if you did work you didn’t earn a lot and there was nothing left for luxuries, for example you didn’t have a holiday as there was no money for that.

No one got to go off to Skegness for two weeks by the sea at the taxpayers’ expense like those on benefits today.

The closest thing the East Londoners got to a holiday was the three weeks in September spent in the Kent countryside picking hops.

Apart from the working men folk, the whole family migrated to the Kent hop fields using whatever means of transport suited their pocket, my Great Aunty Kay couldn’t afford the train or bus, so she walked.

It took her three days to walk and she would sleep in the hedgerows or woods along the route and she would work extra hard so she could afford the train home otherwise she walked back to Stepney as well.

While in Kent they worked hard for three weeks every September picking the hop flowers and filling bushel baskets and earned every penny.

My grandmother used the money to buy shoes and winter clothes for the kids and if she was careful, she had enough left over to save a bob or two for Christmas.

I PICKED UP A BOTTLE OF WHISKEY

 

I picked up a bottle of Whiskey

But something was wrong with it

I didn’t know what exactly, but

I would get to the bottom of it

SOMEONE STEPPED ON A JUICY GRAPE

 

Someone stepped on a juicy grape

That fell from the vine

It made no utterance at its demise

But did let out a little wine

I HAVE A PHOBIA OF ELEVATORS

 

I have a phobia of elevators

Escalators and travellators

I can’t do any automated system

So I take steps to avoid them