Domestic Drudgery

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Oh carpet on the floor
What’s with all the crumbs?
I vacuumed only last week
From where did they all come?

I’m sure that I just ironed
All those crumpled shirts
That they need another pressing
Rather disconcerts

Those dirty plates and cups
Are back sitting in the sink
But I only washed them yesterday
I don’t know what to think

Those walls now look quite shabby
But they were fine not long ago
Is there any point in painting them?
Would it all just be for show?

There really is too much to do
And none of it is fun
And as soon as I have finished
It all needs to be redone

Better not to start at all
And leave things in a mess
I’d rather live in squalor
It brings so much less stress

Where Did All The Chocolate Go?

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Where did all the chocolate go?
I had so much last week
But now I cannot find it
No matter where I seek?

It seems strange that it is gone
There was a plentiful supply
But it’s nowhere to be seen
And I really don’t know why

Ok I did eat some of it
Back on Easter Sunday
And I consumed a little more
During Bank Holiday Monday

And yes I might have had some
On Tuesday after lunch
And a delightful bit of Easter Egg
On Wednesday I did munch

But on Thursday there was plenty left
I know because I had some
And though I tried hard to abstain
On Friday I did succumb

But I hadn’t finished all of it
As Saturday was dawning
So I might have had a smidgen
To see me through the morning

But now it seems to have all gone
What has become of it?
And here’s another mystery
My trousers don’t now fit!

Poetry In (Loco)Motion

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I wrote this on a train
It was poetry in motion
The train was running late
Which filled me with emotion

The emotion, though, was joy
For I was late as well
My tardiness well-timed
I didn’t have to dwell

Better still, I got a seat
An unexpected perk
As I headed to my course
And an afternoon off work

I didn’t hold much hope
That my course would not be dull
But at least the journey there
Was semi-reasonable

So I took out my pen
And wrote this little ditty
While heading at high-speed
On a train into the city

A Man Most Modest

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When it comes to being modest
I really am the best
I am so self-effacing
That I outshine the rest

Few could be as unassuming
Less desiring flattery
My metaphoric trumpet
Is never blown by me

Though I do have many talents
And every right to boast
The greatest thing about me is
I’m less arrogant than most

Oh if I chose to show it
My genius would shine bright
But it’s well under a bushel
That I choose to keep my light

Yes, it truly is astounding
That I am so moderate
In the humble hall of fame
I am an all time great

A Blog Post, Written In The Form Of A Poem, That Tells You I’m Too Busy To Blog, But Still Might Continue To Blog, To Avoid Doing The Task That I Should Be Doing

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I’m literally busier than this bee

I’m busy now
Which is a pain
It means I must break
From blogging again

It can’t be helped
Though it is a bore
But I must complete
Some other chores Continue reading A Blog Post, Written In The Form Of A Poem, That Tells You I’m Too Busy To Blog, But Still Might Continue To Blog, To Avoid Doing The Task That I Should Be Doing

A Bibliophile Bemoans Being Busy

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I often claim I like to read
When I have time to kill
A novel is the ideal thing
If I have hours to fill

I like all kinds of fiction
Few genres make me frown
I’m really not too fussy
I’ll even read Dan Brown Continue reading A Bibliophile Bemoans Being Busy

Rhyme But No Reason


I think it’s time for a poem
I said aloud one eve
I haven’t written one for days
At least three I do believe

But what kind of poem should I write
And what should it be about?
Shall I deal with themes profound
Or nonsense shall I spout?

Philosophical and worthy
Is perhaps the path to tread
But a poem about nothing
Might tick the box instead

Yes I think I’ll leave the wisdom
To people with more time
For a poem is not worthless
When it’s got a pleasing rhyme.