"pinny" poems
Grey eyes looking so dull,
A ****** hole through your skull,
But it wasn't your fault,
That your life just came to a halt.
*Dressed in an oversized pinny,
But in fact you were quite skinny,
They always called you fat,
It wasn't your fault you went splat.*
**Rope tied around your neck,
You're looking like such a wreck,
As you stepped off the wooden rack,
It wasn't your fault your neck went crack.**
***A knife slid across your wrist,
They hardly knew you exist,
As it cuts through your vein,
Its not your fault you died in pain.***
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Park swings and polished slides
roundabouts and see-saw rides
country walks and babbling stream
honey pots and tins of cream
Kitchen sink or comfy seat
rain drops on an urban street
poetry and old love songs
wooden spoon and salad tongues
pinny or a pencil skirt
the way you look in my old shirt
the way I nag the way you chide
the nights we've spent sat side by side
beef stew and cake and sweet courgettes
high heeled shoes and sheer fish nets
silence in kisses laughter in eyes
and longing in those long goodbyes
Nov 17, 2012
Nov 17, 2012 at 6:38 AM UTC
If, Mother washed her pinny
And father never swore,
If, Jimmy went to the loo
Instead of on the floor,
If, Our Sammy didn't turn up
In his underpants for tea,
If, Our granddad would keep his flies done up
Phoo, that's an awful sight to see,
If, Gran's teeth refused to fall out
When she dropped off to sleep,
If, My sister didn't steal my razor
This beard I wouldn't keep,
If, That copper had only looked the other way
Our Robbie wouldn't be spending time in jail today,
If, Our Lucy had bothered to learn the facts of life
Eight kids wouldn't be here now causing so much strife,
If, We all stopped smoking ****
And swilling beer till we were sick
This family would be smart, very elegant and slick
Heather P Wilson..........http://www.heatherpwilsonpoems.com/
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 5:44 PM UTC
CRÚISCÍN...CÍSTÍN BAISE
(LITTLE JUG...LITTLE PALM CAKE*)
Auntie Mary’s
currant cake & blackberry jam
“Mmmmmmmm”
The jewels in the crown
of our forever summer
holiday
precious Corkonian objects
brought back to the lowly lowlands of the Curragh.
All the blackberries
that ever were
bursting with sunshine
& childhood
jumping into the jar for her
as if it were an honour.
They & I
transformed by her
love
& lovely laughter
cake baked
with smiles & chuckles
winks & singings.
Me on her knee...tiny
being kissed to bits.
Me being devoured
by an enormous hug
smothered in bosoms
the many many yellow flowers on her purple pinny.
Her blowing my curls out of the way
so that her smile could kiss me
more & more...er!
Me unable to comprehend anything
of her Cork accent.
Me saying “Yes..? ” & “No..? ”
in all the wrong hilarious places
(to my great embarrassment
& her great amusement)
her breath tickling my cheek
telling me she loved me...loved me...
& that I looked so good
she could “...ate ya! ”
Love as visible
as the flour
in the air
in our hair.
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 2:17 PM UTC