PILLOWS OF CONCRETE

Pillows of concrete, blankets of sky.

Fitful sleeping as life tip toes by.

Meagre handouts paid for dinner tonight,

Some soup and a roll, a feast? Not quite.

Morning comes early, before you are rested,

Woken by footsteps, your existence detested

By those who are going about their own business,

Closing those deals that will make them their riches.

Little and plenty side by side on the street,

Both breath the same air, same dirt on their feet.

Both born of this world of woman and man,

All born to be equal, well that was the plan.

And as the haves and have not’s bed down for the night,

For some feather duvets will be a most welcome sight.

But for some far less lucky I’m afraid it’s no lie,

There’ll be pillows of concrete and blankets of sky.

A WINTERS MORN

A raindrop falls from a rosebush,

Like a tear from a young girls eye.

The wind blows through the Elm trees,

Sounding like a lovers sigh.

I tread carefully on the melting snow,

A white blanket on the ground.

Slowly the blanket is drawn back,

Slowly, without sound.

The sun is rising in the east,

Throwing light on this winters morn.

There is nothing quite as beautiful

As a winters dawn.

Now in the full glare of daylight,

I see this winters scene,

In all its magnificent glory

It’s as if I’m in a dream.

Be it dream or reality,

It’s a beautiful sight to see.

And one that will forever bring,

Endless joy to me.

THE DREGS OF SOCIETY

They sit on park benches;

Their minds are a maze,

Of remembered occasions

And better off days.

Their home is a bag

Which lays at their feet,

Their only sustenance

Is gleaned from the street.

Relying on refuse bins

Or gracious handouts,

The dregs of society,

Vagrants, tramps, layabouts?

They solicit from need

Rather than greed,

For the price of a cup

Of steaming hot tea.

And as you reach in your pocket,

They’ll smile with content.

You walk away happy,

Your money well spent.

Will our streets ever be

Free from the sight,

Of warn out citizens

Who tour in the night?

They know every inch

Of their chosen locale,

Be it the park of Saint James

Or even The Mall.

They walk without reason,

Their lives have no rhyme.

The dregs of society

Are societies crime.

SHE'S A BEAUTIFUL BOAT

She’s a beautiful boat,

What is her name?

I see you’ve had some trouble,

Well isn’t that a shame.

You say you hit another ship

Whilst sailing out of port.

And the other ship sank,

Well I never would have thought!

Interested in buying?

Oh no, not me.

I’m afraid that I feel sick

Just looking at the sea.

Still she is a beautiful boat

And sailing would be nice,

I suppose I could think about it.

What’s the asking price?

THE WEDDING SPEECH

Good evening ladies and gentlemen,
As you know I’m not one for a speech!
Can you hear me alright at the back?
This damn microphone lead won’t reach.

We hired a P.A. for the disco,
But the lead won’t reach over here.
So I’ll shout as loud as I can,
In between sups of beer.

Well, all in all it was a good turnout,
It would have been nice, but for the rain.
The wind blew off the Grooms top hat
And the Best Man dropped the ring down a drain.

But thanks to a passing Policeman,
We managed to retrieve it in time,
But that’s when we noticed our bloomer,
We’d left the Bridesmaids behind.

The Vicar dear chap was quite patient
And performed with a thespians ease,
He’s here tonight at the reception,
So Mother, mind your language please!

Didn’t the page boys look lovely?
And the Bridesmaids a sight to behold.
The photographer’s sorry he left early,
But he got fed up, waiting out in the cold.

Still I’ve brought my Kodak Instamatic
And I’ll be doing the rounds in a while,
To capture this momentous occasion,
So please, all try to smile.

Well thanks for the cards and the presents.
Along with the telegrams.
The Best Man will read them out in a minute,
He’s better at it, than I am.

As I said at the beginning,
I’m not one for a speech,
So here’s to the happy couple,
Good health to one and each.

CHRISTMAS ON CREDIT

Now that the party is over, now the Christmas pud is all gone,
Now the crackers are pulled and every carol is sung.
Now as we sit within our chairs, our bellies much enlarged,
Let's spare a thought for our friend, the flexi credit card.

The spending spree that heralds Christmas, a must for all mankind,
Would be over sooner, if we paid at the purchase time.
It's easier to overspend when the last thing on your mind,
Is "How will I pay for this?", or something of that kind.

Now the party is over, it's time to face the band,
I could kick myself severely, for spending out of hand.
The banks are thoughtful, they'll never drop you in it,
If you overspend and need more, they'll simply increase your limit.

Beware the perils of spending, money that just aint yours.
Next time Christmas comes knocking, lock yourself indoors.
Do not join the crowds that mingle in the street,
In and out of high street shops, so nimble on their feet.

Eagar to spend the money, the banks so kindly lend,
Only one thing on their minds, spend, spend, spend.
Buying tat that no one wants, that no man should desire,
Another Christmas on credit? now that would be bizarre.