Sahara

Send A Hose And Rinse Away

On our face, in our hair and over our heads,

Our floors, clothes and our flower beds!

You can keep your rats, cacti and reptiles but

How on earth has it travelled thousands of miles?

Over our houses, our shops and our cars,

Windows and pavements, it's spread so far.

Built sand castles from dunes in our study

But as it rains down it looks so muddy.

You could have sent over some traditional food

And what you’ve delivered over has a strange hue!

Tho' it will come in handy to mix up cement

As we need more houses in Essex and Kent.

Your desert has spilt over our tee shirts,

Blown here and there around our skirts!

Glad you kept hold of all your camels,

Scorpions, snakes and other mammals!

Our beaches now pretty with shingle and sand;

We ought to be grateful that you've lent a hand!

It must have bypassed the Bay of Biscay

And landed on our soil from all that way.

A yellow like coating on bird’s bees and trees

Overseas Sahara in our air and the breeze

And among the rubbish and the debris

Some African sunshine and Vitamin D.

Please next time may the wind blow

Further down south and way down below.

It might be useful for somewhere that snows

And Greenland might like the gift you bestow.

Copyright Linda Lawrence

15th April 2015

I care

I care

Elderly man in a care home with scarf and hat

The company he keeps is a budgie and cat.

A wealth of knowledge and a lifetime of work,

Not one day of sickness or an hour he shirked.

He fought for a better life for us,

Suffered much more than bruises and cuts.

Never once did he ever let us down, but

Some people won't care when he's not around.

The intelligent mind, fought through a war,

Now it seems, he's being ignored.

If only right now, he was able to speak

But some people think he's just a freak.

The medication he takes to keep alive

To get through the day, to breathe and survive.

If only he was given the choice,

It's been so long since he lost his voice.

His mind and thoughts have started to fail,

It won't be long before his body will ail.

But all the doctors are still insisting

That he keeps on living and existing.

It's important that he's kept alive

So big the greed to grow and thrive.

The G.P's will keep handing out the pills

To help along all the aches and ills.

He's lived far too long, can't you see?

Bodily functions not what they used to be.

It's quite wrong for the human anatomy

To make millions for some drug company.

Now, like a zombie, his spirit's died

It's been nine years since he lost his bride.

Did I mention that he has vascular dementia

Do you think he's worth more than a mention?

A memory gone, he's so confused

His life story is now all fused.

He was our hero, a respected man,

We should be helping him all we can.

Although he looks happy in his locked mind

Almost deaf and nearly blind.

Even though he seems resigned.

We must understand and just be kind.

A life of hospital and district nursing;

If he understood, he would be cursing.

Spoon fed, washed, it's become a wage

To look after old people in their old age.

Copyright Linda Lawrence

12th April 2015

For Sale

For Sale

After Christmas celebrations always a rush

To join the reduced price January crush.

But where are the sales

That should be on the rails?

And with all this triteness

And such impoliteness,

My bargain hunting is turning stale.

The chase to find a parking space;

At last! I embrace at a fast pace

Perfectly aligned between bay lines

To avoid a hefty New Year fine

And at such a cost,

In the cold and frost.

Has become such a rat race.

Look for Jeggins, search for Leggings,

Buy extra sheets and some bedding.

Bumpers of jumpers, a new warm coat

A scarf to wear around my throat.

Do I really need all this stuff?

I’ve had enough and out of puff

Need a cup of tea, I’m begging.

Looked through A’s to D’s, no F’s or E’s

And the smaller bras are such a squeeze.

With added pad and plungy bits,

For the ladies with smaller tits!

Surprise surprise, no bras my size!

Thought this problem would arise

But don’t want my boobs to freeze!

I need a wee after a cup of tea

I’ve looked around and cannot see.

It’s such a fight to hold on tight

Breaking my neck, must look a sight!

My face has turned a different hue,

The line for the loo now there are so few

A queue of twelve for just one of three.

The shops and crowds are so loud

Like a herd of elephants on a storm cloud!

No more clothes shopping, now I’m flopping,

Am stopping now and almost dropping.

Just want to be home and left alone

In the comfort of my warm home

In front of T.V. and channel hopping!

Copyright Linda Lawrence

5^th January 2015

Lent

Lent

Now, what is the point in going without?

And what is this Wednesday all about!

I’ve not many sins to repent,

Apart from all the money I’ve spent

Over Christmas and the New Year

And drank too much wine and beer!

I pondered about saving some cash

As it’s so near to this day of Ash.

Thought about giving up smoking

Tho’ my friends will think I’m just joking!

Fast food and chips are on the list but

Family would think I’ve gone round the twist!

Junk food and cheese I’ve contemplated

But don’t really feel too obligated.

Coffee, Ice cream, pasta and booze,

Just don’t know which one to choose!

For forty whole days, I’m going to fast,

Really not sure if I’m going to last!

It’s quite a challenge after Pancake Day

And where food’s concerned I have to say.

I thought give up facebook or even swearing

Or some of the clothes I have been wearing.

Maybe just give up on going to work,

Though colleagues would go quite berserk!

Food is always my biggest weakness

For all its worth with all the bleakness.

I’ll crave for cake and all things sweet

It’s going to be hard not to cheat.

But the following Sunday after lent

Eat chocolate eggs to stay content!

I think those days will be quite tricky

And hope they go by extra quickly!

It seems bizarre that almost in spring

To think about giving up on something.

I honestly think it’s a bad idea

And just go back to my glass of beer...

Linda Lawrence

5^th December 2014

Read for Talking papers

Rearranged

Rearranged

It’s been quite hard

There have been a few changes,

To my diet, it seemed

Needed rearranging.

Little and often

Not eat after six.

The autoimmune

Needed a quick fix!

Out goes the red

And in comes the white

This fish and this meat

Tastes nice to the bite!

The quorn sausage is nice

With a sausage- like flavour

And once in my mouth

I devour and savour.

I do miss the humus

At the wrong time of night

And sticks of celery

Can be really quite trite.

Missing the coleslaw

And gone are the chips,

Would do anything

For a packet of crisps!

And cheese was my downfall

I loved as a child,

From Stilton to Cheddar

And Edam to Mild.

Mayonnaise and sauces

Have now been banned

It’s all home made

And meals are now planned.

No more of the lamb

Replaced with some chicken

It seems to me

This weight loss will quicken!

The wine it stays

It contains so much fruit!

For a weekend treat

With some nuts en route.

But hey! It seems

My clothes now seem bigger

I guess I just needed

Pre diabetes as a trigger

Copyright Linda Lawrence

10^th October 2014

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