Dear Santa, it’s Looby Loo, I’m still here
It’s a miracle, have been ill all year
I don’t want you to forget to stop by
As this old gal would then break down and cry.
I need decent bloomers, mine are in holes
And us oldies truly do feel the cold
A box of curlers, the soft spongy type
As the old un’s wake me up in the night.
I’d like a dressing gown, size twenty four
I can’t do mine up, it don’t fit no more
Some new fluffy slippers to match it too
Mine are worn out, so I need them it’s true.
I may be old, but I like to look nice
Lipstick and face powder would see me right
Oh, some perfume too as mine has run dry
I wish to smell sweet when passing folk by.
Walking isn’t easy for me these days
A four wheeled walker would make me feel brave
I’d be most grateful if all this I get
I’m sure I will, as you are the best yet.
Try not to wake me as I needs my sleep
I’ll leave you some wine and mince pies to eat
Slam the door shut when you leave Santa please
I don’t want my presents stolen by thieves.
Bless you dear Santa for all that you do
Merry Christmas and may the Lord bless you
Looby Loo.
Categories:
looby, character, christmas, humor,
Form: Rhyme
Hung on a brick wall the mummy looks spooky
its Halloween time and her timing is fluky
she prowls down the lane committing mutiny
hostile as a devil she breathes foul frumenty
Dried up like an old prune she flies like a goon
hovering over the kids that live in Saskatoon
with a menacing laugh she fills them with doom
as they run to hide they leave plenty of room
But oh how she knows where the children go
with their looby loo ways spilling candy intoe
she's been well preserved and is full of woe
angry as a witch who just stubbed her toe
Better close that door and lock it twice
she's mad as a hornet and not very nice
sucking on brains is her only device
this mummy from Sask, never knocks thrice.
Categories:
looby, halloween, scary,
Form: Rhyme
MM
Menopause Moment
It comes on uninvited
And it doesn't make you excited
Heart flutters ensue
To an almighty hue
Of crimson red
Lighting up your face and head
Next comes the tsunami of sweat
Accompanied by an almighty dread
Will anyone see the tell tale signs
Will they think l’ve been on the wine?
Doctors’ scratch their chins and ponder
While you garble questions and just wonder
Will your brain capsize?
Will you stay alive?
Beneath the bluster and blunder
Which is now your life
Thank God your no ones wife!
So, there is no womb prayer
Just you, pulling out your hair
No soft voice
In the middle of the night
Telling you it will be alright?
Copyright Sinead Looby.
Categories:
looby, body, confidence, confusion, life,
Form: Free verse