Pale Green Fingers

The crazy paving was sectioned

The weeds were stoned on weed

The roses were at war again

I had to intercede 





But my good intent was thwarted 

When I was ambushed by a bush 

That tied me up in gardening twine

Cut to length by a bush dwelling thrush





I was thrown on to the compost

And left in peace to rot

On my green and pleasant 

Local parish council allotted plot





And as I began to putrefy

And slowly decompose 

I was informed of my gardening crime 

By a war injured red rose 





I was lucky I wasn’t dead headed  

I lacked horticultural sense

Made obviously obvious

When mother nature blew down my fence





What the plants saw made them angry  

It upset their gentle demeanour

As the gale forced flattened fence revealed

My neighbours’ grass was greener

The Octopus and the Shark

An octopus was crying

At the bottom of the sea

What’s the matter, said a shark

Why the misery





It’s awful, said the octopus

How can I explain

I’ve just recounted all my legs

And only seven remain





Well let me hear you counting

The shark said helpfully

So the octopus began to count

From nought, then one two three





Stop, said the hungry shark

Whatever were you taught

Whenever you begin a count

Never start at nought





Why thank you, said the octopus

Starting a new count

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, hooray,

The right amount





I can’t quite hear you, said the shark

Swim over here to me

So the octopus swam to the shark

And the shark had octopus for tea

Together

Let’s be right and wrong together

Stalk and chase King Kong together

Play him at ping-pong together

Hammer the Rank gong together

Have a sing-along together

Day trip to Hong Kong together

Stay there far too long together

Wear a blue sarong together

Hear Big Bens big bong together

Swim in the Mekong together

McCartney and Len-on together

Write a Euro song together

Score a single one together

Shorten and prolong together

Together

We halved

Each other’s heart

Together

We watched

Our love depart

We never did belong together

Gym Instructors

She is a gym instructor

She lives on the fat of the land

Zumba is the language spoken

As lard filled lycras expand

To fill the gym with pain no gain

As sprinkled pelvic floors heart strain

Their weights unmeasured

Gravity resistant

Lifestyle resolved

Short term persistent





He is a gym instructor

He will always be in demand

From under inflated egos

And expanding fat of the land

And the cholesterol lined and pace made

Bypassed to recovery

Perscripted iron

Over pumped

By replacement hip and knee





They are the gym instructors

In a mirrored gym

They instruct them all everyday

And not one heeds her or him

Word on the Street

Well misinformed

And bang off trend

Said she heard it all

From a friend of a friend

The woman on the street

The bong Big Ben

The woman on the street

On the news at ten





He’s the fourth wise man

A pavement sage

Chosen to express

Moral outrage

He’s the man on the street

The reporter picks

To air his views

On the news at six





With their drought of knowledge

And flood of views

The people on the street

Are the square root of muse

With an ever-ready comment

They predictably proclaim

The line the reporter fed them

To get their 15 seconds’ fame