THE POEM SHOP

A wordsmith with wit
who writes verses that scan,
something crafted for you alone -
THE POEM SHOP can!

For any occasion,
on subjects diverse,
just contact THE POEM SHOP –
Kind on your purse.

Value for money,
a service that’s fast,
a quality product,
a gift that will last.

We can e-mail it to you
- you frame it yourself -
or we’ll print, frame and send it
to stand on your shelf.

You’ll find that our verses
are tailored to fit -
Read them out at your party
and you’ll be a hit!

Order one now
for your next big occasion –
Have a look at the samples
- you’ll need no persuasion!

ON MISSING CATS IN MANCHESTER

It’s bad enough you’re ill, laid up
for a spell of enforced leisure
without appalling doggerel from
the Grade One Listed Treasure.

What cruel twist of fate decreed
that this bug they call the ’flu
should rob you of your birthday treat
with daughters one and two?

And so I sing a protest song,
an atonal cadenza,
a caterwauling canticle
to curse that influenza!

At the Opera House in Manchester
bathed in the spotlight’s glare
a Bonny Langford look-alike sings
McCavity’s Not There.

But soft, here’s A Lloyd Webber
and he seems in quite a mither,
“McCavity be damned” he says
“The Watsons aren’t here either!”

“This opus that I penned with just
a little help from Eliot
cannot be seen tonight because
Ann Watson isn’t well yet.”

“No, no, the show must not go on –
please lower the safety curtain.
Collect your refund at the door –
when we resume’s uncertain.”

He waits for news from Bob and Ann
and when the answer’s “yes”
he sends a specially chartered train –
it’s called Starlight Express.

At Piccadilly Station there’s
a limousine quite handy.
The chauffeur says “Please step inside!”
“Glad you could come!” says Andy.

He shows them to the Royal Box
and calls for some champagne.
A lovely time is had by all –
Let the memory live again!

LIFE OF BRIAN

In April nineteen forty-one,
year of conflict, blitz and strife,
there burst upon a troubled world
a bright new spark of life.

Food was rationed, treats were scarce
and maybe this is why
young Brian as a schoolboy
didn’t grow so very high.

But great heights he achieved in sport,
the high jump best of all -
greased lightning was this likely lad
at less than five foot tall.

Greased lightning with his raven hair
slicked back in a D.A.,
the teenaged Brian was a ‘Ted’
“You know, that’s what I say!”

But in the sixties it was time
to think of a career.
He wooed and married lovely Ann
and became an engineer.

He had four sisters, now a wife
and then came daughters three -
a lesser man than Brian
would have run away to sea!

They called him Shanty Man back then
and he could surely sing -
a top act in the Northern clubs
an Ol’ Blue Eyes or Bing.

He’s very handy in the house
and likes to watch the birds.
He’s quite computer-literate now
though he’s not yet joined the nerds.

From “Oh Boy” “Six-Five Special” days
- remember that hand jive? -
the Juke Box Jury’s voted -
Brian’s a hit – a Special Six-Five!

We are gathered here to sample  the fine cuisine of China

and to celebrate the birthday of our friend, ex-colleague Ina……….

When you worked at the college in Finance
“Next please!” you were oft’ heard to shout
as you counted the coppers that people paid in
and you counted the ones that went out.

But now you are free from the shekels that bind,
the experience hasn’t been lost
for the copper you now count on most,
I’m informed, is Detective Inspector Jack Frost.

You’ll turn out on a cold winter’s evening
to meet up at the works Christmas feed
when you could have stayed home nice and cosy
with a video of lovely Judge Deed.

Now this birthday is special – you’re three score and ten
“Are you getting any money today?”
I don’t know but tuck into your duck and fried rice
Ina, we’ll be quite happy to pay.

Be as won ton as ever you want Ina, why not?
Go ahead, have another spring roll!
You can burn off the calories eaten tonight
when you and Kathy go out for a stroll.

Have a big slice of coffee and walnut back home
with your cocoa – trust you’ve made your own cake!
You can work it all off in your garden; I hear
you’re no stranger to trowel, hoe and rake.

You’ve forty-nine years of experience of being
twenty-one, you’ve the key to the door -
but they say you’re as old as the man that you feel
SO – Alan Titchmarsh? – Brad Pitt?- Martin Shaw?

LOST WITHOUT TRACE

Dear Trace, you’re off to live in Oz
with Alex, Anna, Shane -
it’s tough for us to think that we
may not see you again.

It’s great that you can now return
to live in Adelaide -
but before you go you have to know
what a difference you have made.

You brightened up the winter days
like I said before, remember?
You brought the Aussie sunshine
even into dark December.

It wasn’t just your charm and cheer
I’d say, for Kate and Mandy,
your sharp mind and efficiency
have also come in handy.

They’ve said we can replace you
but they’ve got it wrong cos, sadly,
there’s no replacing gals like you -
we’re going to miss you, Badley!

But there’s e-mail and there’s texting
and we’ll make you if you want us
to, a cup of tea, industrial strength,
and send it, care of Qantas!

Dear Daddy

Mum tells me it’s your birthday soon –
I hope she’ll make a cake
then I could blow the candles out
- but how long would that take?

You’re coming up to thirty-five –
you must be feeling glum
but cheer up Dad, you’re not so close
to middle age as Mum.

And since you’ve come to live up north
with work you can enjoy,
you’re looking younger all the time –
like me, you’re “just a boy”.

But Mum tries hard to keep in shape –
each morning when she rises
I join her in a vigorous set
of airforce exercises.

We bend our knees and touch our toes –
in healthy bod mens sana !
Perhaps you’d like to join us Dad?
What’s that you say?  Mañana?