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martin Jul 2012
We awake to morning sounds
Of pavements washing down
Everyone's a trader
In this terracotta town

Wander through the winding streets
Drink in sights and sounds
A trader or an artist
In this terracotta town

Time to find a slice of shade
Siesta hour has come around
All is quiet, all is still
In this little tourist town

The waiters they are waiting
No-one wears a frown
Everybody holds a stake
In this their terracotta town

The fishermen are coming in
The sun is going down
We hold onto a painted pebble
To remind us of the peace we found
martin Jul 2012
Oh for a life of mirth, without an increasing girth!
martin Jul 2012
Lie back think of England
Tuck into toad in the hole
Cider with Rosie,  peaches and cream
Juggle dumplings scoring a goal

Oats in the nose-bag, flip-flop away
Doggie do in the park
Scream shout, dip in and out
On the side after dark

Wellies squidgy in the mud
Carpet burns tickling trout
Marigolds in the soap suds
Eyes askew, up the spout
martin Jul 2012
That shooting star the other night
You said it was a sign
I think it was our satellite
'Cos I can't get online

That shooting star the other night
You said make a wish
I wish I had, I would have said
Please don't hurt our dish
Our landline broadband is so *******, we got a satellite system, but that is not totally reliable.
But it's ok, we don't mind spending hours on the phone, plugging and unplugging routers and wireless things,
standing on our heads and doing it all over again 10 times because in the end, one click (in the right place) and all is working again!
martin Jul 2012
There was a young man from Zagreb
Whose pencil ran out of lead
He went to the quack
Whose answer to that
Was use a biro instead

There was a vicar from the Tyne
Who put all his sermons online
A woman wrote please,
I'm weak at the knees
Here's my address, what's thine?

The Prime Minister went for a walk
Invited a woman to talk
She said  "If you want a bang you can jolly well scram"
He said  Do you know who I am?"
No, no more limericks...that way madness lies!
martin Jul 2012
She has a clever way with words
Says it how she feels
What you see is what you get
No messing that's the deal

A poet's eye for observation
Always taking stock
Toast not buttered to perfection
Jellyfish in the dock

She carries us along with her
We share her swings and dives
And see ourselves reflected
In this woman's eyes

Her feistiness, her generosity
Is often what I see
Perhaps one day I'll say hi
Milk, no sugar in my tea!

And she's funny too!
martin Jul 2012
Qu' est-ce que c'est, ce bruit                                                                        
Que j'ecoute au millieu de la nuit?                                                        
Ce n'est pas grand, c'est tout petit                                                          
Mais c'est la, dans le jardin                                                                      
Quand je suis sur mon lit                                                                        

Le matin nous levons une grande pierre                                                
Et la, assis sur son derriere
C'est un crapaud, un petit crapaud
C'est lui, la source de notre mystere

Desormais je dormirai content sur mon lit
Je vais dire au crapaut
"Chantes pour nous,
                                    bonne nuit, bonne nuit."
crapaud = toad
desormais = from now on , henceforth

Been to France
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