06-12-2020, 08:50 AM
31
Re: Silver Tabby's Scribblings !
A WALK TO THE ‘BUS STOP.The morning is dark and damp.
Trees still weeping yesterdays rain
onto the fallen leaves and empty cans
abandoned along the silent lane.
Black plastic sacks loom and fall,
like alien life forms – re-arranging
themselves in the hedgerow, shadows
in the swirling mist – shape changing.
The sun rises red eyed and reluctant.
Somewhere a blackbird starts a song
that mingles with the distant hum
of traffic, it is time that I was gone.
‘Bus shelter smells – cigarettes and semen,
empty packets and full condoms lie strewn
about the floor. Windows are scarred with
lewd graffiti – I hope the ‘bus comes soon !
© 2020
06-12-2020, 01:53 PM
36
Re: Silver Tabby's Scribblings !
Here is a little light relief for you!ALF, THE ELF.
Alf, the Elf, was afraid of himself,
which made his life quite scary.
He disliked gnomes, and mobile ‘phones,
and anything remotely hairy!
He hated fog, and if he saw a frog
it could make him sick for a week -
but there was no cure, he just had to endure
the havoc that living could wreak!
He couldn’t eat cheese - it made him sneeze,
and nothing that had ever had legs
could be put on his table, and he was quite unable
to even contemplate eggs.
He would not have rice, or pickled dormice,
no pasta, no toast, or potatoes.
No peas, no plums, and no currant buns,
no rabbit, rhubarb, or tomatoes!
His faddy diet nearly caused a riot,
and his behaviour drove everyone crazy,
for he was known to be rude, incredibly crude,
intolerant, and totally lazy.
Then the Elf Queen decreed “Enough indeed,
our reputation is being defamed!
Give him some work and don’t let him shirk.
This wilful elf has to be tamed!”
So Alf was made to take up a trade.
and was given a mobile store
to run for one year - on routes far and near,
to see if that could be a cure.
He worked every day to make the store pay,
and started a night-shift beside.
but, unused to such strain, it exploded his brain,
and, sadly, one night Alf just died.
Filled with remorse the Queen said “Of course
we must send for a priest in a surplice
to lead us all in prayers for Alf’s soul -
and we’ll call it a National Elf Service !”
© 2020
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