Christmas Day

Christmas day

I must say that this has got so contrived

While waiting for my invited family to arrive

And at weddings, funerals and over Yuletide

I should be resting but have got overtired.

The Brussels and carrots are now over boiled

After working flat out with all the toil.

The Turkey’s cooked underneath the foil.

(I hope they don’t buy me even more bath oil)

Dinners’ almost cooked, the bird is stuffed

It’s clear to see there’s far too much!

The spuds they are so overcooked

After two glasses of sherry they got overlooked.

Decorations hung, cards sent, am feeling grumpy

The Christmas flavoured gravy has turned out lumpy;

Gifts wrapped, sixpence in pud, plenty of booze

But all I want to do is snooze!

As we all exchanged presents around the table

Father Christmas paper from Aunt Mabel.

I tried to smile as I know she’s just able

To knit a garment in the stitch of cable.

‘Look darling’ she said after removal of wrapping

‘On you it will look nice and rather dashing’!

It should last you a while as it is quite hardy

The multi colours will suit you on your new cardi!

(I’d rather have bath oil) trying to stay composed

‘I’ll put it away for winter’ I tried to propose.

At thirty eight, it don’t look so great, but

I’ll have to wear it for Aunt Mabel at any rate.

As we take turns to open our presents of underwear,

Some liquid soap, socks, hankies, I don't really care!

And more bath oil, plants and slippers I swear,

Some well received wine after a silent prayer!

So much cheese and we’re all cream crackered

While watching Uncle Jack who’s such a slacker!

He drinks our wine and far too much beer

And this seems to happen year on year.

Fill our tummies until our stomachs ache

More to come later after Christmas cake!

We pull Christmas crackers, tell corny jokes

They can be quite funny, all my daft folks.

The Turkey isn’t the only bird that’s stuffed

As my clan sat ‘round the table with a huff and a puff.

 They all shouted in unison enough is enough!

After all said and done, I’m feeling quite chuffed!

The pudding caught alight with no alcohol in sight

It was running too smoothly before this plight.

Too much time preparing, all day and all night

And had a slight hunch that my pud wasn’t right.

Just mind that sixpence added to the mixture

It might just dislodge any dental fixture

It’s to be expected, the yearly ritual

The annual celebrations have become habitual

Our uncle Pete who normally drinks tea,

Today he’s helped himself to more than one whiskey.

As he pours yet another he’s really quite tipsy

And when we start to play games he is getting Frisky!

And after all this we watch the queen on the telly

With burnt pudding, ice cream or some strawberry jelly

A choice of some meats and other stuff from the deli

We won’t be able to see over our bellies.

Don't come back for bubble and squeak

Coz most of Boxing Day I'll be relaxed and asleep.

And while the choirs sing, my debit cards pay

For the twenty four hours that's called Christmas day.

I hope there’s no kissing under the mistletoe

And take your gifts from the tree before you go!

Thanks for your wine, some bottles of Bordeaux

And mind your journey through the rein deer and snow...

Copyright Linda Lawrence

5th September 2014

 

In the cold light of day

In the cold light of day

You stole my bag

With all I had

In the cold light of day

But can say!

Only that I’m glad!

I was somewhat shaken

With what was taken

And thought you’d mistaken.

I was taken aback

With your attack.

Out for a walk

And think I was stalked

Watched me like a hawk,

Along a forest path

But I had the last laugh!

Just Ruby and me

With wild berries and trees

And I’m sure you’ll agree

When I set you free

That what happened was glee!

Don’t think me unkind

When home with your finds.

But sure enough

When you stole my stuff

I called your bluff!

You ran quickly away,

Hope I led you astray!

You got away with it

But have to admit

To my quirky wit.

Now you’re wide eyed

With what was inside

Serves you right snide!

It’s all bona fide

And I’ve brushed it aside.

I enjoyed our walk

And our doggie talks

Her tail she wags

And that was the snag

Her poo was in that bag!

Copyright Linda Lawrence

Having a daft moment.

9^th August 2014

So unimpressive!

So unimpressive

It’s humid, oppressive

And not feeling so clever

Am getting obsessive

About the news and the weather.

The rain is excessive

And very progressive

The mixture of climate

Is just so unimpressive!

It feels very heavy
On my feet so unsteady.
Am feeling quite heady
And got to go steady.

Don’t need my sheet

Got my own body heat

Not smelling so sweet

From the sweat it excretes.

Drips down my face

(And other awkward place)

My heads’ a blank space,

Sit down just in case.

Drinking lots of squash

And need a good wash

Not feeling so posh

The sweats’ so awash.

It is so damn sticky

Am feeling quite sickly.

It’s getting quite tricky.

In the heat getting prickly.

Just want to sleep

Lay down in a heap

Not just count some sheep

Not glow while asleep.

.

Tired, depressive,

And getting aggressive

With lack of slumber,

It’s so unimpressive!

Copyright Linda Lawrence
8^th August 2014

Longing

Longing

I really want to generate

Before they start to disintegrate

And badly want to celebrate,

Before my age starts to accelerate.

I feel a longing to introduce,

So desperate to reproduce.

Create offspring of my own,

Feel so numb and all alone.

My deep desire to give birth

Before I leave this earth,

A craving so profound,

Don’t want to hang around.

A yearning that I crave

Before I reach my grave,

A chance to nurture my spawn

And not die before they’re born.

In my body there are eggs

That could be little arms and legs.

A child I can call mine

But each month they are declined.

I have a deep down need

For the sperm to find my seed.

Am anxious to succeed;

It’s so true that women bleed.

I’m sure I’m not infertile

It will just take a little while.

But just got one life request

To hold my baby to my breast.

Copyright Linda Lawrence

6th August 2014

13 Visions

13 Visions

I do not know what it means, travelling to regions not yet seen

Meeting faces from different races, finding myself in different places.

Out of sync out of routine and falling down a deep ravine;

Falling deeper underground, floating to a bottomless ground.

During the wars and burning fire, dire, like a funeral pyre,

Burns within my hair and skin, not knowing what’s about to transpire

The buildings burn, the structures fall, how did this even happen at all?

People screaming, folks are crying, scared of leaving this world and dying.

I can’t escape the doodle bugs; it’s landed in the allotment with some slugs!

How bizarre, how can this be? It must be the work of some thugs?

But paradoxically there is an apology for all this irresponsibility!

From someone anonymously but this makes no sense psychologically.

Trying to understand the ambiguity of this senseless mystery,

And almost ominously; this is very dark, odd, black and eerie.

I feel it crawling though my skin and don’t quite know where I’ve been.

And in a blink of any eye, I want to cry but cannot understand why.

A different place, a change of scene, this really is getting quite obscene!

My tongue is silent, I cannot talk and just want to shout and scream.

I feel numb as evil succumbs; I’ve never felt so useless and dumb.

Just don’t know how to comprehend and not sure where this will end.

I cannot find my old street where I used to live, it’s so off beat.

The old station bridge looks strange and every shop and road has changed.

I No longer recognise and it seems the whole image is in disguise.

All familiarity and well known has disappeared along with my first home.

Running fast not gaining speed, don’t know why, want to concede

But somehow want to succeed, in whatever it is to proceed.

Am moving fast but in slow motion there’s something playing with my emotions.

There is so much to understand but it seems there are no plans.

I’ve moved back to my old home, where all the taps are made of chrome.

Foreign rooms I now roam, ‘this is nothing like I left I moan’!

Going back to my roots where I was born, dissimilar and so forlorn;

Giant weeds and tall black trees with no pretty garden to adorn.

And as my father turned to me who said the spirit world is ‘living’,

I question my own spirituality and try not to be so misgiving.

My Mum, still angry at me and can’t ask her the reasons why

And in my vision there must have been a better way to say goodbye.

My friend, I have seen her, she said ‘don’t be upset

I was just going to tell you how happy I am with the hours we’d spent!

All the songs we sung over bottles of wine on those TDK cassettes

And just to let you know I’m not longer in anyone’s debt’!

I seem to be back with my ex, it must have been some kind of hex.

No feelings for him but will be easier to stay as our relationship is so complex.

And of this child I have given birth between the heavens and the earth,

Where she came from and why will never be unearthed.

And the witchdoctor that cast a spell, I couldn’t scream or could not yell,

The rancid taste and burning smell and in my dream, it looks like hell.

I dreamt of burning at the stake, of witches and warlocks, poisonous snakes

The man who tried to kidnap me and drowning in the River Lea.

The Tsunami and long before it struck we run up a tall tower

A few hours ahead of the wave ahead of its destruction and power.

And as I fall off slowly slowly, I sense a presence quite unholy

Force myself to wake up, take it with me all day shaken up.

Linda Lawrence 9^th July 2014

Bugging me

Bugging me

This insect repellent

Is such a deterrent

Against gnats, even cats!

Or this and that!

Saves me having to splat

Or use a baseball bat

On those damn things

Who makes me itch and sting.

Am feeling quite sore

And so deplore

And do abhor

My blood being sucked!

While spreading your muck

And for you to abduct

Blood from my pores!

It’s becoming a bore

And also a chore.

Keep spraying on stuff

Enough is enough!

Am not quite so tough

Now my skins’ looking rough

With all these bites,

Can’t even wear tights

Would look such a sight!

You’ve got no right

You damn parasites

Better say your last rites!

And of using this cream

Of antihistamine,

I must be esteemed

And tasty like

Chocolate ice cream!

Now the state of my skin

All up my shins;

You’ve made a mess

Of my pair of pins.

And during the night

You home in on a bite,

It isn’t quite right

That the zap light

Didn’t trap you tiny mite.

And while in my dreams

You fed well it seems

It must, for you, be a delight

That you ate well tonight.

Copyright Linda Lawrence 20^th June 2014