Saga of the Shed…



This is the saga of the shed,

I got it wrong when I spoke to Fred,

He asked me where I wanted the door,

And did I want a window or four.

I don’t know I cried in rage,

My husband’s not here it’s hard to gage,

And do you want the roof on a slope,

It will give you space, a bit of scope.

I think he said it must have a point,

It doesn’t leak with that type of joint,

Then he can put stuff in the space,

For a rainy day just in case.

And has he made the ground all level,

Cos if he hasn’t it’s a bit of a devil,

I think he made it eight by four,

I’m sure I heard him when he swore.

The day soon came for the shed to arrive,

He moved the car from the drive,

Out to the garden he rushed in joy,

Full of excitement like a boy,

But then oh no disaster struck,

The shed’s not right what bad luck,

The wife it seems got it wrong,

The shed is wide where it should be long.

My husband’s bubble was deflated,

From the dream that he created,

He had to lay a bit of decking,

I heard him mutter something about checking.

And now it sits in pride and glory,

Looking good hunky dory,

I’m sorry that I got it wrong,

You should have known all along!



Man Kit…



Lets do up the lounge I said to my spouse,

A DIY disaster then took over the house,

The drill came out with a flourish and a smile,

I know what I’m doing it’ll be done in a while,

There’s a hammer, nails a saw and paint,

Enough man kit to make you faint,

Why don’t you pop down to the shop?

And I will get started chop chop chop.

But why I asked do you need a drill?

Because he said, it gives me a thrill,

Please don’t use it on my wall,

I closed my eyes and started to bawl,

Don’t worry so my precious one,

I’m only joking, having fun,

Stretching out to grab the saw,

He cut the skirting on the floor.

Then a sand to make it smooth,

I’ll play some music get in the groove,

A couple of nails to dislodge,

You’ll never notice my little bodge.

Grabbing my shoes I left in a rush,

As he took hold of a hairy brush,

When I returned the plaster had crumbled,

Oops he said I’ve been rumbled,

I may have been a little firm,

Don’t panic now it’s not long term,

All it needs is a touch of filler.

I may turn into a husband killer.

Please stop I yell I can’t take any more,

Pick up your tools from the floor,

No more DIY for you today,

I swear my hair is turning grey,

My house resembles a dusty mess,

I’m not very pleased I must confess,

Still I suppose he really tried,

I mustn’t knock his huge man pride.

Do You Really See Me?…



When you see my skin,

Do you really see me?

Although we are all different,

We want the same you see.

You say you’re not a racist,

But you’re swayed by history,

People will always believe it,

From that I’ll never be free.

My heart beats to a rhythm,

Just like yours does too,

But my dreams and aspirations,

Are harder to break through.

If you only see my skin,

And don’t look to my soul,

How can I ever show you?

It’s a form of social control.

Come hold my hand and walk awhile,

We’re similar you and I,

We can make a difference,

If we really try.

Wedded Bliss…

Wedding Cake


The wedding day arrived with wind and rain,

It blew our hair oh what a pain,

Into the church we sat on a pew,

Right at the front, what a good view,

The groom was there with his mum,

Holding a hip flask full of rum,

Next we waited for the bride,

To walk up the aisle and stand alongside,

The vicar then married them double quick,

No time to pull out that’s the trick,

They both said ‘I do’ with a bit of a grin,

To love one another through thick and thin,

A hymn was sung we knew it by heart,

We all stood up glad to take part,

The service was over it ended with a kiss,

Happy together in wedded bliss,

We threw confetti into the air,

And quietly said a silent prayer,

Then off to the reception for a champagne toast,

A piece of salmon and a super roast,

The cake stood high in all its glory,

The making of which is another story,

The best man’s speech was rather a hoot,

And in places quite astute,

The bride and groom had the first dance,

The look of love a true romance,

The disco started with flashing lights,

Women dancing, hitching up their tights,

The men throwing shapes on the dance floor,

You know the next day their gonna be sore,

Much drinking was done throughout the night,

The tales of which I should not write,

The day was done, it ended well,

We waved them off with a fond farewell,

Together forever, married at last,

Thanks for inviting us it’s been a blast!

Shopping Spree…



It’s my birthday to Amazon I flee,

Voucher in hand on a shopping spree,

I wiz through the page with sheer delight,

Never once thinking of the workers plight.

I browse all manner of goods for sale,

From books on cookery written in braille,

To perfume and shoes and garden tools,

Lest not forget the sparkly jewels.

Oh how I wish I could buy some more,

I would buy bags that I adore,

I’d order some flowers and chocolates too,

I’d order some shoes that don’t need glue

The day soon arrives when the parcels are due,

I’ll stay home sick, and make a brew,

Watching the cars go up and down,

Knowing for sure I’ll be the talk of the town.

My excitement unbound I’ll rush to the door,

And accost the postman we’ll wrestle to the floor,

The packets at last will all be mine,

I bow to Amazon that’s my shrine.




Think of the staff that slog away,

Working in a warehouse twelve hours a day,

They rush up and down their feet getting sore,

Filling their trollies with goods from the store.

They have to push on it’s a race against time,

If they don’t get their orders it’s considered a crime,

They must not go sick, they must not fail,

There is no room for the weak or frail,

Conditions are rough, conditions are hard,

The pay is crap but stay on guard,

The managers watch to see who to sack,

They know in the end the staff will crack.

So when you click on that Amazon link,

Take a moment, pause, and think,

When the parcel arrives on your mat double quick,

Please spare a thought for those that pick.

Oh How I wish I Was Young



Oh how I wish I was young,

I could dance by the light of the sun,

I could sway and groove,

Throw the odd move,

And show the teenagers how it’s done.

I could ballet and tap,

Dance to some rap,

Do an Irish jig,

Without sweating like a pig,

Or falling in someone’s lap,

Oh those days I remember so well,

The music made my heart swell,

My feet led the way,

I could dance all day,

As graceful as a Gazelle.

And now I’m too stiff to move,

I can’t do bump, grind and grove,

It would make you grin,

When I land on my chin,

I’m sure you would disapprove.

So now it’s time to stop,

No more the Bunny Hop,

Time to retire,

Put my feet up by the fire,

And take off my old tank top!