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DAD'S BIKE

You couldn't help but like
Dad's bike.
It had provided acceleration for him, his father and his grandfather before him.
Until young Michael
Broke the cycle.

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A 21ST CENTURY FISHERMAN'S TALE

I sat upon the pier and, to my glee,
A fishing boat was coming home from sea.
What luscious harvest from the ocean deep,
I wondered, had these sea-dogs been to reap?
Fish cakes, perhaps, or cod in butter sauce?
(I'd pay the chaps the going rate, of course.....)
As they approached, I felt compelled to linger,
Thinking how I'd enjoy a nice fish finger.
Perhaps the ever-gracious hand of God
Had led them to a shoal of battered cod?
But soon I realised, to my dismay,
These guys had had an unsuccessful day.
'A bloody waste of time,' declared the skipper,
Holding aloft a solitary kipper.
'What's more,' he muttered, pulling alongside,
'You can't get breaded haddock at low tide.'

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GUY FAWKES

Guy Fawkes (the name had plagued him all his life)
Worked in a firework factory down the road.
Through pyrotechnics he had met his wife;
From squibs and Catherine wheels his lifeblood flowed.
They energised him; made him come alive!
A passion deep within his soul they fired.
But in July, when Guy turned sixty-five
He lit the blue touch paper, and retired.

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THE THREE BEARS
by
Mary Druce

You've heard the tale of Goldilocks
Since you were in short pants and socks,
And so, dear friends, I will not bore
You with a tale you've heard before.
Except to say that when the bears
Returned, and padded up the stairs,
Their glance was hardly more than cursory
When Baby Bear shrieked from the nursery;
For Mummy Bear (whose name was Ruth)
Knew he embroidered on the truth,
And Daddy Bear (whose name was Ben)
Had smacked him time and time again
And poked him sharply in the ribs
To stop his cub from telling fibs.
'No, honest, Dad, this time I'm not.
Someone's been sleeping in my cot.
A little girl. And she's still there.'
'Well, bugger me!' said Daddy Bear.

 
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