Take a look, the cow’s milking itself
And the sheep are shearing their wool.
The hens gathering eggs from the shelf
And the pigs entertaining the bull.

The geese are collecting litter
Foxes are mending the fence
Farmers never been fitter
No work for him to commence.

Chickens have pecked the hedge
To make everywhere neat
Ducklings have polished the ledge
Where the farmer keeps his feet.

The plough horse back from the field
Had quite enough for one day
Now has to calculate cabbages to yield
Then clean out the hay.

This is the funny farm
Where smart animals hang out
Full of character and bags of charm
Lots to shout about.

There is an owl on the gate and he is singing “tu whit tu whoo”
He is not sure whether he is at Chelsea or indeed at Kew.
He knew here there were well to do types
He also knew that bamboo was green and had stripes.
There were ladies dressed in white Broderie Anglais
Most of which were covered in Italian Spaghetti Bolognese.
Somebody said “Oh I do really beg your pardon
I do like a good nosh up in your garden”.
Some preferred a patch with movement and flow
on the other hand stuff hadn’t chance to grow.
Some folk needed style, imagination and some shape
And all that some required was a simple landscape.
One chap needed mud and a garden full of sweet roses
Rather a contrast but his stuff just decomposes.
Most were impressed with the Chelsea Flower Show
And they all shot off to see what they could plant and grow.
Magnificent!

There was once a goose with an attitude
Forever and a day he was in a mood
So if you see a goose
that is set loose
Remember he could be rather rude.

A fairy possessed a strange power
That got stronger by the hour.
Was it because her legs were hairy
Or that she was naturally scary
And I thought she was as sweet as a flower.

Oh la la
The hair dangles alongside pearls
The dog admired himself
he had a head full of curls.
Lucky dog.

A Joy to Behold

Holding a new born baby
Close in your warm strong arms
Baby food dripping down your shoulder
And the constant ringing of sleep alarms.
A joy to behold.
Walking the dog in the dead of night
It alerted you at two in the morning.
Waiting at bedroom door with lead
No fuss just a wet sloppy warning.
A joy to behold.
You just sit down with an evening meal
After a hard day’s work – the ‘phone rings
A sales talk on something you do not want
Slam the receiver down, and then say nice things.
A joy to behold.
Stuck in traffic when you are in a rush
All you want to do is get there and back.
You know something is going to happen
The chap behind you didn’t see you – whack!!!
A joy to behold.
You fetch your loved one from the supermarket
With a thousand bags for you to carry.
She has spent all your wages in a flash
And you wonder about the girl you did marry.
A joy to behold.
Watching your garden turn to weeds
After a heavy fall of the never ending rain.
Pulling them out with roots the size of parsnips
Your back aching, pulled a muscle once again.
A joy to behold. True a joy to behold.

She blushed
she went beetroot red.
his breath quickened pace
he too went red in the face
Their hands shook
He had another look
He went red a little more
Her eyes were glued to the floor.
She was tenser than tense
to him things did not make sense.
What was wrong, does anyone know?
Is Cupid short of one arrow? if so
it has most probably got lost above
in the little land they call love.

A Little Pink Toothbrush

“Do not grab me”
“She has done it again,
You have got to agree
She is a pain.”
The little pink toothbrush
Moaning about the way it’s treated
In the mad morning rush
Till the cleaning session’s completed.
“Pick me up gently, that is it
Now squeeze the paste”
“Too much, too much, just a bit
Oh my life, what a waste.”
The little pink toothbrush is a fed up
He wants to be looked after lovingly
From when he comes out of his cup
Which is fair comment to some degree.
“In the mouth we go,
Always the same molar
Now woman brush to and fro
No, no, wrong, I’m trying to control you.
“Up and down, not like a yard brush
Gently, we have to do it gently
It is not some major rush
Do it differently.
Do human beings know?
Do they actually care?
Is their brain like pastry dough?
Is it even there?
If I have thought it once,
I’ve thought it a million times a day
She must be a dunce
And that is all I can say.
Rinse woman , rinse me
Under the sparkling spray
Oh no don’t dip me in your cup of tea
I’ll be yellow and smelly all day.”
Does she not know I have needs
Not know how to treat me nice
It is like she succeeds
I have to think everything twice.
“And don’t throw me
Put me gently back in my place
And I’m covered in tea
Pity it’s not on your face.”
Look soap, look everyone what she does
Treats me like a scrubbing brush
And she does it because
She is always in a rush!”

I used to stand and admire all the colours of the sweet jars
all the splits, chews, sticks and lips red as cherries
all the funny shapes crammed in and the chocolate bars
and the herbal sticks made from very scented berries.

Mushroom shaped sweets rolled in toasted coconut and spice
watches to eat and pipes with sweets and scented dips
If you brushed your teeth after it was all very nice
then there were orange fish shapes with sweet rosy chips.

Fairy apples with golden pips,whistles to blow and ****
mixtures for throats, chest and for a very rainy day
gums and stoppers big as you like worth a second look
Even chocolate coins in a big jar next to where you pay.

Pineapple cubes and bottles tasting of your favurite drink
foamy shrimps and marsh mallows that are good to float
lemon drops and traffic light lollies make your heart sink
bubble gum bubbles that when popped stick to your coat.

Strawberry fizz and lemon bubbles that pop on your tongue
white mice with long tails and rose centred violets with cream
gob stoppers that would last all the day long
sweets of our youth are now all but a dream.

Warm toes, cream floating in the coffee
A sweet red apple encased in rich toffee.
Cheesy mashed potatoes and bangers
Cheeky whistles of the old clangers.
The comforting tune to Watch With Mother
The antics they get up to in Big Brother.
The two adorable children in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
The all time favourites that Mary Poppins sang.
Gob Stoppers that used to change colour in the mouth
The warmth of the sun as you travel south.
The cotton wool smoke in Camberwick Green
Rainbows with crushed apricot colours in-between.
Sunsets sunrises who could ask for more
A true gentleman opening the door.
All these things I would not mind doing twice
if not more because they are all things nice.

I inhale
I exhale
Sometimes I win
Very often I fail.
On one’s own
All alone
Frustrating
A huge stepping stone.
For me to climb
The clock starts to chime
Seconds falling
Losing time.
I am on a chart
Back to the start
Losing beats
From a broken heart.
My muddled mind
Thoughts left behind
Memories
Are hard to find.

Listen to yourself
And fall head over heals in love
With yourself.
Learn to respect your body
Filling it with good things
Listening to good stuff.
If it is full of bad *******
Then it is reflected.
Fill a bath with ***** water
and your skin will scream.
Fill it with hope from paradise
coconut oil, strawberries and cream
Then it will glow and you will flow
like crystal clear waters of porcelain.
Listen to music that beats with your heart
The pace not a race is important.
Learn to love yourself like a lullaby
Then you will be filled with happiness
and very little will you cry.
Fill your world with promises,
Do your best - it is for you.
Fill your dreams with hopes
and make these two come true.
You are important in this world
You can make a difference believe me
You are beautiful, look for the good
Look for the things you do not see.
For they are there. Bring them out
Those that dont, well they are funny folk
Life is to be lived, seriously lived to the full
You only get one shot, and that's no joke.
I am not saying go to the extreme, just look
learn and sing a lover's lullaby
If you do it then you will be pleased with yourself
and that you have helped yourself and had a try.

There was once a man from Bury
Who liked the odd jug of Sherry
He drank it quick
which made him sick
But it never once made him merry.

Shooting into and then out of the cosmic bars
was a sports fan from the planet Mars.
He'd obtained a one way ticket
to watch the outer space cricket
But was so drunk all he could see was stars.

There was once a man from York
Who had a craving for salty pork
But what was worst
He had the most terrible thirst
Drank the wine but swallowed the cork

There was once a man who had a blue beard
Which to you and me is very weird
In the growth he kept his keys
Which shot out when he did a sneeze
Being locked out of his house was what he feared

I awake to a sound
A soft gentle breeze
Sweeps across my face.
A feeling I found
Memorable.
The music reminds me
A gentle reminder
Of something special
Of what I used to be
Memorable.
A clock ticks silently
The rhythm stirs my heart
Beating my soul
Quietly.
Memorable.
I hear children playing
far, far away.
Memorable.
I hear someone whispering
"I love you".
I remember the day
when I wore white
Memorable.
I recall Spanish nights
My skirt too tight, too high
But I loved it.
Memorable.
My dad looks at me with
love in his eyes
he is now wrinkly
weathered and wise
and he cries
late at night.
A sunset drapes itself across
ruby speckled skies
Memorable. All memorable.

On behalf of all hedgehogs please read this before lighting your fire on bonfire night.
Wading through rotten wood gathered throughout the year
Lies a little baby hedgehog and in its eye there’s a tear.
In hedgehog talk he pleaded for help and, missing his mum
He was set free to walk back cold and lonesome.
He arrived home and his mum had missed her only son.
She cuddled him while he told her what he had done.
She realised her son could have been burned alive at night
He was under a pile of wood which could have set alight.
She looked at him with all the love in the world and more
But her precious little one was fast asleep on the floor.

A million little fairies
dance through a particular night
hanging moonbeams on the oak
securing them tight.
Silver ribbons, white ribbons
pinks one too, floating in the breeze
fairies flitting in and out
hiding amongst the leaves.
All but one tiny fairy
she refused and kept quite still
she reflected just for a second
then rolled speedily downhill.
she was trapped in a tight spin
collecting bracken in her hair
coming finally to an abrupt halt
in a lacy white, cold square.
"Oh I say, what have we here"
announced the scary spider
"Complete with flowers for me
she is a strange outsider".
"She's tiny and so frail
and now my heart is full of love.
The Lord has answered my prayer
This is what I have dreamed of.
A lady friend to share my lonely life
oh how I am trapped in a web of silence"
The fairy awoke with a look of sheer horror
"Oh I do not mean any offence".
"My long hairy legs are not so bad
they can offer you so very much
They move like the wind, are strong
yet they are sensitive to your touch"
I can spin you the best silk
and make you the finest gown
You will be the Queen of the forest
and I will make you the finest crown.
You can be my Queen and I will be your King
We will be together and never be apart
Do not be alarmed at my ugly exterior
underneath there beats a loving heart".
"I will worship you, pick the freshest of flowers
bring you sunshine on a very rainy day"
He turned round to admire his catch
She had gone and could hear "Please stay".
She had gone.

There are so many things
so many times and events
I wish I were born with wings
So many good times, regrets.
But there are a million reflections
A path lined with gold
Sparkling, showing me a route
to do what I am told.
I am not a child, nor adult
but unborn ready to love
I am not a feeling, nor space
I am not sent from above.
I am a mere reflection
one of the million that there are
I am but a tiny spark of life
waiting at the bar.
I am the bubble in the fizz
I am the air that you breathe
I am a million reflections
Trapped in a web that we weave.
I am the knot in your shoelace
I am the anger in the dark
I am a million reflections
Etched on the million year old bark.
For I am the leaves on the tree
the wind that allows them to dance
I am a million reflections
I am your eyes in your trance.
I am all these things, like it or not
Look around you see the beauty
see the reflections, they do exist.

Imagine walking into a silver haze
A silver carpet laid out for you
to gently tip toe to your place of rest.
To be peaceful, graceful, serene
Imagine the silk of their wings
Stroking your body, calming
Sensing your fear, absorbing it
and releasing happiness instead.
Imagine a million silver rose petals
The intoxicating perfume filling your world
Inviting you in, harmony surrounds you.
Imagine an angel, a million angels
protecting you, guarding you.
Being there for you every second of your day
Imagine a million silver butterflies
To carry you, to be with you always
They are there, just look.

Silent whispers from Mars
Dust gathers to provoke
There is a mist over the moon
The man in the moon must have spoke.
He drifts here and there
No footprints to show his path
He silently moans, he groans
lets out the occasional laugh.
He is watching our planet
Watching the waste and mist
He whispers good nothings into the air
and desperately shakes his fist.
In despair he sends out a whisper
Blows a kiss from his icy blue hand
The deserts catch it, and keep its secret
and now it is buried beneath our sand.

Silent whispers from Mars
Dust gathers to provoke
There is a mist over the moon
The man in the moon must have spoke.
He drifts here and there
No footprints to show his path
He silently moans, he groans
lets out the occasional laugh.
He is watching our planet
Watching the waste and mist
He whispers good nothings into the air
and desperately shakes his fist.
In despair he sends out a whisper
Blows a kiss from his icy blue hand
The deserts catch it, and keep its secret
and now it is buried beneath our sand.

There is a mist over the moon
It came late this afternoon.
But it will shine brighter later on
When the fuss is over and gone.
It is a sensitive moon thou knows
Where there are no highs and no lows.
What you see is what you get
Footprints in the moondust have set.
Lonely days and long cold nights for the man
who has parked somewhere distant in his lunar van.
The man  in the moon came down too soon
Because he was experiencing a very misty moon.

I watched a monkey who seemed out of control
He appeared to be sliding fast down his pole
It was a major slip
Having lost his grip
and fell embarrassingly into a large hole.

There is nothing quite like being a mother
Being there for your baby, always your baby.
Caring, sharing, knowing, loving and being a friend.
A shoulder to cry on, an apron to leave a mark.
An unfinished dinner made with love polished off
A beating heart calmed nicely, no payment required.
We are a nurse, advisor, carer, dishwasher and cook
we are always to hand, always to care and all of the above.
To be a mother, have a smile, a kiss, and unconditional love.

A door mouse, as cute as fresh cherry pie
Perched on a dandelion time blowing machine
Blowing moments away for free, do not ask why!
But isn't it the cutest thing you have ever seen?

There once was an alien from outer space
Whose craft crashed in its resting place
His spaceship was on red alert
But he managed to escape unhurt
and subsequently disappeared without trace.

A rabbit taps my foot
with his paw as white as snow
He has a smile on his little face
and soon it will be Easter.

A can smell the aroma of chocolate
Melting in the midday sun
A hunt for eggs appears to be under way
and soon it will be Easter.

The fragrance rich spice lingers
Orange peel, raisins and vanilla.
Jelly beans of all flavours are promised
and soon it will be Easter.

Little yellow fluffy things with wings
crack their way clear with a sharp beak.
Lambs spring into action on cue
and soon it will be Easter.

The baker up to his elbows in yeast
Hot Cross Buns and Simnel cake are made
Marzipan, golden sweet adorn the top
and soon it will be Easter.

There is a green hill far away
is etched upon the good shelves of my mind
and the Beatles singing "I wanna hold your hand"
and soon it will be Easter.

Chocolate eggs, good spirits, kindness and love
Learn to love not hate, give not take
Put your hands around those you adore
Keep them there, this Easter show you care.

Sitting relaxing to a perfect moment
Moments like this were made in Heaven
Sitting here appears to be an accomplishment
and all my fears and tears have been forgiven.

I hear a voice, a gentle voice, is it a voice of an angel
A cherub, a holy angel sent from above.
And my hands now appears to be scented with  gel
I am being shaken, A voice says "Come on, wake up Love".

A dream, it is a dream, and I thought differntly
A deep sleep late in the afternoon I am afraid
But it is back to reality ever so abruptly
As my partner thought it best to come to my aid.

"You were snoring your head of" he exclaimed
"and you were saying something about a dream"
"Something about this and that and who you blamed
and that the clouds were made of ice cream".

And The Moor Was White
A sea of snow sliding
Moving like a river
Drifting, I saw it drifting
if on skates, gliding
And the moor was white.

Twinkling, it shone
The snow glistened
I stopped, took off my hat
And I listened,
And the moor was quiet.

There were tracks
Footprints from a bird
I admired its path it took
I put back on my hat and heard
The moor seemed to whisper to me.

The wind brushed my face
And persuaded me to stroll
And there on its side
Was a new born foal.

It was alert, looking for shelter
Cold, hungry and in desperate need.
The moor was a lonely place
I gave it all I had so it could feed.
And the moor fell silent.

I made my way through the woods
Out of the drifting snow
The foal followed me to a path
And I showed him the way to go.
Back to the moor twinkling and white.

Drifting, I saw it drifting
A sea of snow sliding
Moving like a river
As if on skates, gliding
And the moor was white.

Twinkling, it shone
The snow glistened
I stopped, took off my hat
And I listened,
And the moor was quiet.

There were tracks
Footprints from a bird
I admired its path it took
I put back on my hat and heard
The moor seemed to whisper to me.

The wind brushed my face
And persuaded me to stroll
And there on its side
Was a new born foal.

It was alert, looking for shelter
Cold, hungry and in desperate need.
The moor was a lonely place
I gave it all I had so it could feed.
And the moor fell silent.

I made my way through the woods
Out of the drifting snow
The foal followed me to a path
And I showed him the way to go.
Back to the moor twinkling and white.

If you are sitting comfortably I will tell you the story
of the magnificent, sparkling in its full glory.
And this is how the tale begins.
It was spectacular, with ribbons, bows and sequins.
It had ***** of gold glitter and magical charms
stars draped majestically from its arms.
Sparkly diamonds were all aglow
An array of colour straight from the rainbow.
Nobody has ever told it to dress down
and on its head it wears a golden crown
There are presents and gifts lying at its base
stuffed tightly in: there is no available space.
Boxes with ribbons in all different sizes
Hard work has done this to provide prizes.
It is that time of the year - yes it's the Christmas tree
and there it was - the tree.

Alone with my thoughts
peacefully minding my own business
Just relaxing waiting for time to pass
and there came a voice over my shoulder
it whispered something.  I looked in the
direction of the call, but there was nothing.
It must have been something.
Cannot have been nothing.
Was it my imagination, my own thoughts
whistling to the wind?
Could it have been my dreams playing out loud?
Were the voices inside my head?
I lay back,closed my eyes and tried to sleep.
I felt a draught towards my right hand side.
I heard a ghostly whisper from that place.
I could only wish my hands would now stop shaking.
My palms of my hands seem to be clammy and there
is a chill running down my spine.
It was not a nice situation to be in.
I heard the voice again. It clearly said "Martha".
It was said in an agonising way.  Not nice.
I thought about my position and did not think twice..
I ran.

Noise, non-stop din from within
Rattle rattle went the lid,
half jokingly joining in
like a big spoilt kid.
The door slams, the wind howls
rain beats down in torrents
the cat sprays, the dog growls
it is all happy accidents.
Guns blazng in the summer afternoon
from a western on the telly.
should be something nice on soon
and also something sweet for my belly.
That is howling too, with hunger pains
But now there is something different
Whispers in the dark as the clock gains
and then it came and they all fell silent.

We can all shield our emotions
Put on a painted brave face
Like a clown in a sweet shop
and yes it's okay to cry.
Sometimes just a knee **** reaction
or a unexpected ending to a popular film
You can feel the sadness about to explode
and yes, it's okay to cry.
Men feel they have to be superheroes
be oblivious to emotion
but I know deep down they just want to let it out
and yes it's okay to cry.
You have missed your train, 'plane or 'bus
Missed an appointment or lost your keys to your car
It is not the end of the world I am sure
and yes it's okay to cry.
We feel better after a handful of tears
and good pocket size handkerchief will do
Let us all have a jolly good cry right now
because it is okay to cry.

It is the end of the working week
and are you in for an exhibition?
The sun and moon are playing hide and seek
they are just getting into the position.

And it will happen all too soon
the antics of the moon and the sun
This occurs once in a very blue moon
then disappear like a cherry on an iced bun.

Play that tune, starring the sun and shiny moon
lights, camera and action, the moon slips
in front of the sun like a magnificent huge balloon
and well, the performance is spectacular a total eclipse.

The White Cliffs

Chalk hills, dust on my shoes
Following the magnificent views
A Blue Butterfly brings nectar
From the bee, mother nature’s protector.
Flights from abroad packed with smiles
From tired passengers from lots of miles
Looking at the white cliffs of Dover
Pleased to be home, flying over
Lands not known to them.  Now home
Where the English heart is.

A new day is dawning
the sun outstretches to the sky
a promise of a lovely morning
the hours will drift by.
The blossoms scatter beneath trees
like confetti on a grateful path way
pedestrians are easy to please
another memory on a beautiful day
squirrels have left their usual trails
playing hide and seek among the pink
petals decorate the red in their tails
its not hard what the passers by think.
they are thinking lovely things
because that is what you do
that is what the morning brings
is that what the squirrels think too?
do they worry about putting food on the table
whether or not the market will crash today
will it rain? can I work? whether you are able.
what will I wear? have I money? what to say?
Problems, problems, challenges, and the like
will the traffic be a nightmare, which way to go
is it worth walking or shall I take the bike?
the melting *** has so many things in which to throw.
The squirrels are busy hiding their food for another time
They have their life sorted in a way
not bothering about problems, money or crime
to them it is just another beautiful day.

The moon disappears 
Fading into grey
A new light shines
For a brand new day.
My day, the wind blew my way.
As Frank Sinatra sang.
My Way as a clap of thunder
Shook my world with a bang.
A clash of lights, colours explode
An orchestra in the sky.
A screaming child pushes by
Claiming one penny for his 'guy'.
The moon disappears
Fading into the grey
and that is all I have to say.

A NEW LIGHT FOR A NEW DAY


The moon disappears 
Fading into grey
A new light shines
For a brand new day.
My day, the wind blew my way.
As Frank Sinatra sang.
My Way as a clap of thunder
Shook my world with a bang.
A clash of lights, colours explode
An orchestra in the sky.
A screaming child pushes by
Claiming one penny for his 'guy'.
The moon disappears
Fading into the grey
And I have nothing to say.

A New love comes knocking at your door
But the heart, you thought is under lock and key
The head however sometime ago escaped the drawer
but then do the heart and head always agree?