You try to write

6BDF702C-8DF9-41C5-B41E-14441D91CC39Modelled on Wendy Cope’s poem ‘Some More Light Verse’

You have to try. You try to write.

Your writing’s trite. You drink, get tight.

You struggle to improve your books.

You post a poem. It gets no looks.

You eat some food. You post some junk

You drink some more. You’re slightly drunk.

You read a bit, you walk, you dream.

But nothing works. You want to scream.

You don’t know what to do, you cry.

You’re running out of things to try.

 

You scratch your head. You try to write.

You try to eat and drink what’s right.

You fidget lots. You make a plan.

You long to write. You know you can.

But nothing works. You want to scream.

You walk some more. You read, you dream.

You eat, you drink. Still no one looks

You struggle to improve your books.

You can not see the point. You sigh.

You try to write. You have to try.

Awkward

It’s all a little bit awkward

I don’t know what to say.

In truth we’re not accustomed

To doing things this way.

 

It’s all a bit unfortunate

Not how it’s supposed to be.

We’ll have real trouble explaining

How things got this way.

 

The situation’s awkward

It shouldn’t be this way.

Blushing and tongue tied

I don’t know what to say.

 

 

 

 

via Awkward

The Narcissist

He loved his own reflection

Caught it whenever he could.

Looked at himself in the mirror

More often than any man should.

He struggled to love any other

Thought far too much of himself.

His first thought on other’s affliction

Would be how it affected HIS health.

It wasn’t a difficult courtship

He loved his reflection at once

He knew he was made for no other

Their eyes had not met by chance.

via Narcissism

A response to the Daily Prompt

Pieta

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We were like the Holy Family
So the chaplain said
The ward like Bethlehem’s stable
Two parents wrapt with their child
But the child was dead.

You reminded him somehow of Mary
The messiah spread across her
As our child lay in your arms now
Limp and dead.

What’s the line from Eliot
About seeing birth and seeing death
And thinking they were different?
In the silence life and death
Seemed only a breath apart.
The child in my mind’s eye manger
Wears a crown of thorns.

Complication

There’s been a complication

Things didn’t go as planned.

It seems for Poet Laureates

They’re slightly overmanned.

Seems that Carol Ann Duffy’s

Already doing the job

And one Poet Laureate

On the books

Is really quite enough.

So I’ve done my Wedding Poem

But I didn’t get the job

I guess just knowing

I’ve done my bit

Will have to be enough.

via Complication

What we saw at the Royal Wedding.

Our view of the carriage from Windsor’s Long Walk.

Poem for the Royal Wedding

Greetings from very busy Windsor.

Andrew Green's avatarAndrew Green's Poems

182020D2-ABD1-4BF5-AAD6-B117F3783ED8

It’s three cheers for Harry,

And three cheers for Meghan

Forget about the national state

And celebrate a wedding.

Everything’s red, blue and white

Church bells are a-ringing

Everyone is on the street

And all the choirs are singing.

Got no time for grumpy folk

We’re overdue a party

Happy tears run down our cheeks

Our cheers are loud and hearty.

Politicians all poe-faced

None of them invited

Not been much to shout about

But now we’re all excited.

Meghan is a clever girl

Seen her on the telly

Bound to shake things up a bit

And add a bit of welly.

William is the one day king

Lesser role for Harry

But he’s found a super bride

He’s no need to worry.

Carriage round the Windsor streets

When will they get started?

Band strikes up a marching tune

Couple have departed.

Dad is anxious, checks his watch

Glad it’s…

View original post 182 more words

Premature Application

My application’s too early – a little bit premature

It seems Carol Ann still wants the job

And there’s not enough cash for two.

 

Two hundred a year and canary wine

Must stretch the coffers enough

My application’s premature

They don’t need two of us.

 

They don’t need another Laureate

At least for now, not yet.

So I’ll sharpen up my craft a bit

For now she’s a better bet.

 

At least I did a poem though

They can’t take that away.

I’ve done my little bit to help

The couple’s special day.

 

A response to the Daily Prompt

via Premature

Queen Elizabeth my neighbour

Our neighbours grandson’s getting wed tomorrow.

Andrew Green's avatarAndrew Green's Poems

6BF1439B-C0EC-48DE-A1D8-6C3DA0485FE2Liz from up the hill

Have you met my neighbour
Liz from up the hill?
She likes to walk her corgis
Husband’s name is Phil.

Curtsy when you meet her;
Seems that is the drill.
She may not have her crown with her
But ask her and she will.

The Castle’s really handy
For all the Windsor shops.
If ever she runs out of stuff
Across the road she pops.

She likes to wear a headscarf
It acts as a disguise
In case the folk of Windsor
Disturb her while she buys.

Her favourite shop, just near her
Is Windsor’s new T. Max
You’ll often find her in there
Going through the racks.

She never carries money
Or so I’ve heard them say
I guess they have to send a bill
For someone else to pay.

If ever you bump into her
She’ll ask you what you do
They’re short…

View original post 225 more words

The day we met William and Harry

 

2641AE12-A4C1-40FE-AC85-46C95B7C6885The day we met William and Harry

They came to the end of our road.

Datchet was under water

The Thames was in full flood.

 

We’d water in the high street

We’d water in our house

The Press were on every corner

And the army had been sent out.

 

The next thing we knew

The royals waded in

Helping with sandbag walls.

Harry and William they were both there

There at the end of our road.

 

Harry was in with the soldiers

Laughing and one of the lads

William apart and quieter

When they paused

From their chosen task.

 

I joined the line

Threw them sandbags

Even shook Williams hand.

They were decent lads

I liked them

Though life has set them

Apart.