Stiff Boogie – A Poem

Why do I always find

It so difficult to dance?

Disco, foxtrot, cha-cha…

I’m afraid there is no chance!


Oh, I can do a pirouette

And slide across the floor,

But of the splits in heels

I’m really not so sure!


I begin to stiffen up

When I step on the dance floor

And feeling all self-concious

I scan for the back door.


People are blocking the exit

So my heart begins to race

I waste more time by pretending

I need to tie my shoe lace.


I do a stiff boogie

As I try to look cool

But back away from the lights

Only to trip over a bar stool.


I grab for something, anything,

To stop me falling on my back

But my hand finds a poor souls waistband

And my fingers slide into their crack!


I quickly withdraw my hand

Continue to stumble around,

But they punch me in the face

And I fall unconcious to the ground.


Once I’m able to crawl

Back to the back door,

Suddenly, saying ‘excuse me’

Doesn’t seem so bad anymore…

Toilet Seat – A Poem

Trying to do my business

As quietly as I can,

I fill the loo with paper

And turn on the fan.



I quickly stand up,

Now that I am finished.




My jeans catch on the seat.

My newfound confidence,



Oh, ground please swallow me up

I should have taken more care.

Now everybody knows

What I was doing in there!

I Think I’ve Got Wind – A Poem

I should have soaked those dried beans

Instead of eating those that were tinned –

I think I’ve got wind.


Now’s not the best time

To be bum-chinned

It’s just a reminder

That I have got wind.


Would you stop telling me

That I have sinned?

I can’t control my wind.


I could do with being a fish

One that is double-finned

So I could quickly swim away.

There’s nothing more embarrassing than my wind.

Take Me – A Poem

“Ooo, it’s such a very

hot day”, I think.

All of this warm weather’s

Driving me to the brink!


Relieved to leave the metal box

That is my car,

I run for shelter in Tesco’s

Which seems so very far.


I’ve got a splinter in my thumb

So first search for some tweezers,

But then remember the frozen isle

With all those nice cold freezers…


“TAKE ME!”, I yell at the coldness

Upon reaching there.

Nervous customers stare at me

But I really do not care!


I let out another yell

The same as before,

Until security guards drag me out

Into the scorching sun once more.

Fruit Picker – A Poem

I walk around my village

With my fruit picker,

When the sky begins to darken

And I see the street lamp flicker.


I make my way to my neighbour’s orchard

Where I hope to find an apple.

I pass the church, the pub, the school

And the graveyard of the old chapel.


I reach the wall that surrounds the trees,

It’s only as high as my waist.

I spy several ripe, crunchy apples inside

And just can’t wait to have a taste!


I whip out my handy fruit picker

And lean precariously over the wall.

Flick, flick goes my wrist,

I’m a bit off balance, I hope I don’t fall!


I’m slower than usual tonight,

I need to pick quicker, quicker.

I don’t want to have to resort to

Buying even one with a supermarket sticker!


I actually have an orchard of my own,

But all the fruit is hard and bitter.

The skins on these are irresistably crisp

Whereas on mine they are a lot thicker.


Pick, pick, pick

That should do the trick!

My fruit picker’s full the the brim,

No more need for me to nick, nick!


I tip the contents inside

My basket made of wicker,

Which I cover with a big tea towel

To also hide my fruit picker.

That’s for me to know, and you to find out – A Poem

Where have you put the fire extinguisher?

The oven’s been playing up lately,

It should be moved to the kitchen

If we want to live more safely.

That’s for me to know, and you to find out.


I’m late for my hospital appointment,

Where did you put the car key?

If I’m too late, I will have to pay a fee.

That’s for me to know, and you to find out.


My favourite song is on the radio,

Where is my hearing aid?

It is not very often

That I hear it being played.

That’s for me to know, and you to find out.


If In doubt, Let It Out!

Standing on the grass,

The rain pattering on my head

I feel an uncomfortable feeling,

So attempt to cross my legs.


Why do these things happen

At the most inappropriate times?

Like at the funeral I’m in now,

Just as the church bell chimes.


I tense my gluteus maximus.

My back passage starts expanding,

My face begins to redden as I inch

Away from where my friend is standing.


There’s just no holding it in,

So feeling like a little kid,

I think “if in doubt, let it out!”

So that’s just what I did!