In the town of Corona, 

locked up in her tower

I plead with Rapunzel 

to let down her hair.


Rapunzel, Rapunzel

your hair is so long,

we’re socially distanced;

how can it be wrong?


Rapunzel, Rapunzel

It’s two metres long,

potentially longer,

so thick and so strong.


Rapunzel, Rapunzel

I could wear a mask.

Just let your hair down.

Is it too much to ask?


Rapunzel, Rapunzel

I’ll go round the bend?

They’ve furloughed us princes

Where will this all end?


Rapunzel, Rapunzel

I could take the test?

Or should we just FaceTime

perhaps that is best?


Hurrah for Little England

From an original version published on the eve of the Brexit vote.


Hurrah for Little England

She cast herself adrift

Say goodbye to Brussels

We’ll head into the mist.


Don’t know where we’re going

The captain’s overboard

But we won’t be ruled by foreigners

Or people from abroad.


We’ll resurrect our Empire

They’ll surely want us back

So it’s goodbye to the future

We’re turning back the clock.


No need for foreign factories

No need for all those jobs

For life will just be perfect

With all the foreigners gone.


We’ll reclaim all our colonies

Take America back;

Canada and New Zealand

They’ll surely all want that?


Goodbye foreign subsidy

That’s not what we need

Londoners will pay for us

Let’s let London bleed.


Goodbye banks and bankers

We don’t need city jobs

Life will just be perfect

When Britain’s on its tod.


It really should be easy

Why the awful fuss?

Those beastly Europeans

Make it hard for us.


It’s really not your business

We won’t obey your rules.

Why do you think as customers

You have the right to choose?











Glass half full or half empty?

56E20376-DD93-49C2-9DB8-CC65646F83FE‘Is your glass half full or half empty?’,
Is a question I don’t understand.

My glass is half full if you’re filling it.
Keep pouring please – to the top.

Half empty as soon as I drink from it.
I could do with you topping it up.

The secret’s to keep refreshing things
Not just to use life up.

It’s fine to be glass half empty
Just remember to fill it back up.

Nothing to say

His work exuded sophistication;
That clever poet.
There’d be endless layers of complication.
Name a technique and he could show it;
He displayed such knowledge; erudition.

The most perfect rhymes he’d always retrieve.
The power of his intellect there on display.
And, at choosing his words, he was quite a magician,
His extensive vocabulary hard to believe.

It was just such a pity he’d nothing to say!