Quirkyalone Day we sat monitering the telly
alone on a Valintines Day had
never been such a chore
Freinds gathered to watch the game and to watch the
fyter-folly bout. They wrested, grappled and boxed.
The karate was sporty, I enjoyed the catch as catch can aspect of the thing myself.
We ate quail and wildrice. Strawberry crumples( suger cookies wrapped with nuts, cream cheese and jam with a fruit)
with wine and icecream. We made a Sporting jesture
from loniliness.
What a grand day my freinds. Bravo to our worthiness!
My addiction;
You're my addiction
Always with me
By me wherever I go
Whenever I'm alone
All the time beside and around me
My only companion
Accompanying me whenever in jeopardy.
You stripped me off
Everything I owned
Unaware to me
Just not to get rid of you
Can't live without you
My addiction
I'm lost in and with you forever.
The more of you
Not enough
The more craving
Forever the thirst
Longing endlessly
For you without seizing
Aren't you the sweetest!
My addiction.
The Withernwick Ramblers Skiffle Group
Not exactly an enterprising name
But we did however have
One unique claim to fame.
We accompanied Audrey Hepburn,
Famous Film Star, yes that’s the one
That elfin faced great actress
Now so very sadly gone,
The Six Five SpeciaL National Skiffle Contest
The only one there’s ever been
Heats at the Star Cinema Hornsea and
We were behind the Silver Screen
The film was War and Peace
Saturday afternoon Matinee showing
And our last rehearsal
Before the heats got going.
So, we accompanied Audrey Hepburn
But I don’t suppose she ever knew
About those four Yorkshire lads
Murdering Worried Man Blues
We came fifth out of four
But that was outdone by by far
By the fact that we’d in theory
Accompanied a Hollywood Star.
'Say what's with all the furry hats?'
'They're Beefeaters. It's what they wear'
'Are they like, the Aristocats?
Say, what's with all the furry hats?'
And who's the little woman?' 'That's
The Queen.' 'Are we in England?' 'Yeah'
'Say what's with all the furry hats?'
'They're Beefeaters, it's what they wear'
© Gail Foster 4th June 2019
when i see young surgeons
with careless hands dissecting
poems in schools
ruthless for marks,
i smirked and declined from
warning them,one day
they will dissect their lives in poems.
not all of them will write,some will
pen lyrics and think greatly about it,
O that emotion that is universally Sad.
i know,their teachers too
have a habit around poems;
the class depended on them
for limitations and murmur.
with time,i knew they were same.
same in sanity and madness,
after the same teachings,
the blind philosophy,
the best glamourous road
of no end,
to be lost is possibility.
the tempted man will follow the snake
into the weeds,
the realised will sit and mend;
with some faith the broken becomes beauty.
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