Margaret Murray, the one with the glasses.
The psychic, the mystic, her tarot card classes.
Told Sheila her mangoes​ were ready to eat.
Told Mary her cousin'd be back on his feet.

Beverley Spence was a sceptic, tough cookie.
In seeing her fortune snapped up by the ******.
Decided to tell her her ulcer would heal.
It's better than sharing with friends what was real.

Patty was eager to hear from her mother.
Jessie bereft at the loss of her brother.
Beatrice needed the skills of a healer.
For Margaret saw death and she would not reveal her -

True destiny seen in the cards at the clubby.
Preventing a scene with her hard drinking hubby.

£20 fortunes, no refunds, no worries.
There's no better tarot than Margaret Murray's.

I am my Mother's son.
She shines where darkness prevails.
She lights up a room like a comet.
She soothes where illness ails.

I am my Mother's son.
Through troubled days ahead.
The constant love throughout my life.
Where sunshine fears to tread.

I am my Mother's son.
She's the moon and stars, you see.
The warmth and kindness of a saint.
The reason I am me.

You’ve gotta be in it to win it.
You’ve gotta put in to get out.
You’ve gotta keep living.
The life that you’re given.
You’ve gotta ignore all the doubt.

It’s time that your destiny
Gave you a clue.
It’s time that your heart knew
The right thing to do.
It’s time that’s not stopping.
The clock that’s tick-tocking.
The right here right now is for you..

So never give up on your dreams.
Despite all the **** in betweens.
You’re destiny’s waiting and never abating.
Decide what your every move means.

We die in the end and we know it.
Whether success or we blow it.
Go live in this minute.
For fail or for win it.

Just sail with it –
Board it and row it.

A seldom ill-natured arrangement.
The owl and the pussycat were -
Wound up to a frightful derangement
At the sight of the entrepreneur.

The rascal decided to venture
In hiring their beautiful boat
The owl nearly choked on his denture
On finding it steered by a goat.

The owl and his friend
Set out to pretend
To not even care about steering.
So on it's return
They planned that they'd burn
The sails so they both started cheering.

The goat was no longer a sailor of seas.
He took up employment in processing cheese.
The owl and his mate would never berate
A contract with dodgy tycoons.
They're happier though to go with the flow,
And sail with the help of balloons.

A fallout at dinner
Saw no outright winner
On the quest for a marvellous trip

The owl said that Venice
Could stave off the menace
Of wind from the nibbles and dip.

The cat had remained silent but drained.
At the threat of Italian air.
The fact that some spies had
The cause to surmise that
The dish ran away with the hare.

Sudan it was planned from the man
In the sand who gave discount
To dismount their boat.
The sandstorms provided,
The couple decided –
An irritant bad for the throat.

At pudding of comfit
And port and some Stilton
Conclusions were made on the fact
That they built in
Some cupboards for luggage
And two pairs of boots
And a lifetime’s supply of dye
For their roots.

They hopped off and popped off
And sailed to Capri.
To try out a brand of Italian Brie.
So sometimes discussions
Can end in excursions
To try out new islands with cheese.
The owl and the pussycat
Just should be sure that
They sail with a minimal breeze.

So the journey postponed
By the method of twine.
Twas decided they’d book on the telephone line.

A jungle safari with gin and Campari.
And lashings of kippers on toast.
Despite the location of bison migration
There was still time to fish by the coast.

At the end of the plodding in boots made from wadding.
They both had a wonderful time.
They couldn’t deplete all
The stocks of the meatball
From bellies of African swine.

There’s no moral this time.
As their trip was just fine.
Said the owl to the pussycat’s purrs.

Their next time in Turkey
Was rather more murky.
On their quest for some jewellery and furs.

The owl was resigned to the fact that the cat had designed a new method of travel.
The string that was handy presented by Mandy, the turtle, would never unravel.

Perpetual motion brought on by the notion that holidays calm the hysterics.
Providing the crew had those jobs they could do that didn’t involve balding clerics.

After owl asking about multi tasking the cat decided to spin.
The string that was dandy and near to the sandy and frequently visited bin.

Realising the method was not going to pass so harassing the mass of onlookers.
The couple decided despite being derided to disappear dressed as two hookers.

The moral is this:
That an owl and cat’s bliss can only be found on a shoestring.
With strings and a boat and a gabardine coat, perpetual motion’s no new thing.