Watch This Space

watch this space
I just had an idea
when I get the chance
I’ll put a poem here
it may not be a good one
but at least I’ll take the time
to fill this empty place up
with a silly little rhyme


Cathedral Cowboy

His belly is a hangin’ judge
judgin’ by the buckle on his belt
his tight blue jeans have ridden a range
of miles his backside felt.

But now he leans a smoulderin’
against cathedral walls
waitin’ on that last big roundup
the heaven sent cattle calls.

Spectacles (A One Minute Rhyme)

these glasses do not favour me
you couldn’t say they’re cool
they’re too big for my little head
and make me look a tool

but if I didn’t wear them
I couldn’t read or write
so I guess that I’m stuck with them
though I look a proper sight

even with them on my face
I bump my head a lot
so I really must be careful
it’s the only head I’ve got

I’ll live with the fact they’re rather sad
and just a fashion folly
they don’t make me look like Richard Gere
just a grey haired Buddy Holly