A response to the word of the day prompt


I sometimes get angry

and just blow my top.

I find it cathartic.

It happens a lot.


I know you don’t like it

You think I should stop

But you’re really annoying

And things just build up.


You’re really annoying

You must know that’s true?

Would I get quite so angry

if it wasn’t for you?


The same irritations

again and again.

It’s as if you don’t listen

or hear what I’m saying.


It bubbles on under

the anger I feel

till it all gets too much

and is unleashed on you.


It’s better I speak up

and vent it on you

than build up resentment

till one day we’re through.


If you want to visit gran

Seems like you can ride a bike

Even drive a vehicle

But if you go and visit gran

Pop goes the weasel!

You can play a round of golf

Visit garden centres

But take the kids to see their gran

Pop goes the weasel!

See your friends out in the park

Only one not several

But leave your granny well alone

Or pop goes the weasel.

Fine for kids to go to school

Back to work for workers

You can have a cleaner round

But stay out granny’s garden.

Half a pound of tuppenny rice

Half a pound of treacle

That’s the way the money goes

Pop goes the weasel.

An Understated Man

A response to the Word of the day prompt – Understated

He was modest, unassuming

an understated man.

He played down his importance

and underplayed his hand.

He was very softly spoken

and didn’t speak a lot

but when he spoke they’d listen.

His words would hit the spot.

The faint praise that they gave him

was less than he deserved.

If dragged into the limelight

he would plainly be unnerved.

A man of great potential

most of it unmet.

Hopefully his time will come

but it hasn’t yet.

Much too self efacing

modest to a ‘t’.

He much preferred the background

So we just let him be.

Poor Bo Peep

Little Bo Peep
has lost her youth
her best years
are confounded.

She’s all alone
stuck in at home
and can’t get out
to party.

How will love come
to one so alone?
She doesn’t know
where she’ll find it.

She’ll sit on her own
Call friends on her phone
But all of her dreams
are thwarted.

She’ll leave them alone
till better days come
and the bad days
will be well behind her.

A few quick lines

The word of the day is quick

So that’s what I will be

I’ll dash something off

and make it quick

Just a few quick lines.

Slap dash, done in haste

I can not hang around

Barely stop to catch my breath

Feet don’t touch the ground.

Oh! Struggling with the pace.

Now I’ve tripped!

More haste less speed.

I’m going much too fast.

And now I’m out of breath,

I went off much too fast

Could never keep that up

Could never ever to last.

I’m pooped, I’m done

I can’t go on

Pity but I petered out

All burned out

I’ll have to stop.

A response to the Word of the day challenge – ‘Quick’

Sad King Cole

Old King Cole

was a merry old soul

the lockdown didn’t suit him.

If this carries on,

thought the merry old soul

they might as well just shoot him.

He called for his pipe

he called for his bowl

but somehow

they didn’t console him.

Where are my fiddlers

fiddlers three

music, laughter dancing?

Strike up a fiddle

give me a song

brighten up my day.

How much longer will it be

that this thing still goes on?

I’d like to wake up

have the whole thing gone

and find it all a dream!

Humpty Dumpty Fell Off A Wall

Any resemblance to recent events is unintended and purely coincidental.

Humpty Dumpty
fell off a wall
The King and his men
weren’t happy at all.

There’s too many falling
Too many ill
The numbers are rising
They’re going up still.

All the Kings horses
and all the Kings men
Couldn’t get numbers
To come down again.

There’s too many poorly
And flat on their back
It’s clearly a problem
We’ll just have to crack.

But the King said it’s simple
Here’s what we must do
Nothing gets done
If it’s left up to you.

The numbers keep rising
Because you will count
If you stop counting
The numbers won’t mount.

If Humpty’s still broken
We’ll just look away
If nobody sees
Then there’s nothing to say.


You and me in harmony?

We’re singing different tunes.

It seems like you miss every note

And I can barely croon.

Harmony, harmony

It’s something of a joke

You’re an off key sort of girl

And I’m a tone deaf bloke.

But I need you here with me

Tell me I’m not wrong

We’re out of step and out of tune

But kind of get along.

A response to Eugie’s weekly prompt Harmony

Back to school

Mary had a little lamb

They said go back to school

She wasn’t sure if she’d be safe

But they had changed the rule.


Now everywhere that Mary went

The lamb was sure to go

He followed her to school that day

Though Mary didn’t know.


It made the children laugh and play

To see a lamb at school

But as for social distancing

To them it seemed too cruel.


They were so pleased  to see their friends

They laughed and squealed with glee

A lamb in class made them forget

To do things differently.


‘It’s hard enough to keep kids safe,

the lamb should not be here!’

The angry teacher turned him out

But he still lingered near.


He waited patiently there bouts 

for Mary to appear 

She promised she would take him home

And made her anger clear.


“What makes the lamb love Mary so?” 

The eager children cry; 

“She understands the rules so well”

The teacher did reply.

While the old folks die

The U.K. has experienced the highest number of Coronavirus deaths in Europe and a quarter of known coronavirus deaths in Great Britain have happened in care homes but there is still a view we should ‘back Boris’ and not ask awkward questions. It reminded me of Kipling’s poem ‘the Smugglers’ with its refrain, ‘Watch the wall my darling while the gentlemen go by.’


IF you wake at midnight, a’ sweating at the count

Please don’t blame our leader, should the death toll mount,

Them that don’t ask questions won’t be told a lie.

Back to sleep my darling, while the old folk die.


Don’t go asking questions, 

Best stay in the dark – 

There are daily briefings, questions no one asks

Clapping for the nurses; rules for you and I,

Bite your tongue my darling while the old folk die! 


If you make comparisons and you chance to find 

Evidence that’s mounting up and preying on your mind,

Don’t you shout to come and look, or use it for your play.

Carefully place a lid on it so all’s forgot next day.


If you see the stable-door setting open wide;

If you see an argument crudely brushed aside

If you see the minister’s cut about and tore;

If the questions are too tough – don’t you ask no more ! 


If you meet apologists sharing what they’ve read,

You be careful what you say, and mindful what is said.

If they call you ” pretty maid,” and chuck you ‘neath the chin,

Better you just back away and think of giving in. 


If you see an empty bench  – division lobbies dark –

If parliament behaves itself and house-dogs will not bark.

Sir Keir is there, but none to hear, so see how dumb they lie

They don’t fret or holler out when the old folks die ! 


‘If you do as you’ve been told, ‘maybe there’s a chance,

They will get you back to work, or picking fruit perchance,

You’ll get to see a relative or play a game of golf

They’ll let you have a cleaner in; but keep your granny out.


Five and twenty briefings, 

Still we’re in the dark – 

Swerve the awkward questions, silence awkward folk

Them that don’t ask questions isn’t told a lie – 

Bite your tongue my darling while the old folks die!