Significant arrival.
|
Posted:Oct 12, 2011 4:45 am
Last Updated:Sep 16, 2021 2:24 pm 14037 Views
|
Announcing the burf of grandotty Maisy,Isabel,Elizabeth Ellis-Lashbrook.Remember the name, she's gonna be a star.
|
|
|
8
Comments
|
|
Shmickle!
|
Posted:Sep 20, 2011 10:35 am
Last Updated:Jun 11, 2012 4:34 pm 11814 Views
|
Shmuckle!
|
|
|
1
comment
|
|
Having have had
|
Posted:Jul 28, 2011 7:10 am
Last Updated:Aug 10, 2014 3:36 pm 12279 Views
|
Having chosen the path of least resistance.
Having taken the road most travelled.
Having only heard the voice of most insistence.
Having seen all my mysteries unravelled.
I have lived a life of predictability.
I have lacked in talent and ability.
I have rested on what laurels i had,
Always last to follow the latest fad.
Had i chosen differently.
Had i chosen recklessly.
Had i only been able to see.
Safe, isn't how life is meant to be.
|
|
|
2
Comments
|
|
G Dottys burfday pome.
|
Posted:Jun 25, 2011 3:34 pm
Last Updated:Oct 21, 2011 5:07 am 10706 Views
|
The hippy-potty-mouse is a funny-lookin' critter
and doesn't make a very good baby sitter,
cos when it sits on baybees it tends to squish them flat
and they stick onto his bottom and that's the end o' that.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
Me tree.
|
Posted:May 1, 2011 7:56 am
Last Updated:Nov 8, 2011 4:19 pm 11516 Views
|
-Arboreal emotions-
I am a tree, and when you touch me,
my human ,
it does horrible things to me.
Infects my bark, pollutes my sap
and for a decade I’m dizzy.
I am a tree, and you my human ,
are the wrong species for me.
Perhaps a lovely shrub or even a little Anemone,
Would be a passing comfort to me.
A little bird to roost snugly in my arms,
Has its undoubted charms.
But you my human ,
you are the wrong species for me.
Yet I yearn, over the century, so much for your company.
Though you, my human ,
are the wrong species for me.
|
|
|
1
comment
|
|
Limpet love
|
Posted:Apr 28, 2011 11:51 am
Last Updated:Jun 19, 2012 6:58 am 10956 Views
|
-----LIMPET LOVE-----
Shackled to you,
You know I am.
And you couldn't care less.
Your biddable slave
you know I am,
Just another dolly for you to dress.
Easily you take me,
Easier still, you leave
And I have no say.
One way or another,
you're not really bothered
whether you go or you stay.
Tethered to you,
you know I am.
Should I live or die,
you won't bat an eye.
Stuck with super-glue,
that's me to you.
Your loving, longing, limpet.
|
|
|
1
comment
|
|
My big gay poem.
|
Posted:Apr 7, 2011 11:39 am
Last Updated:May 28, 2011 6:14 am 10033 Views
|
Gloria has a peanuts
and she let's it come between us.
I've told her i don't mind
whatever it is i find
while rummaging in her pantaloons
Gloria has a beard
she thinks that's just a little weird
but i don't care
if people stare
I loves my big baboon
s?
The word peanuts is not a profanity, do grow up please ff.
How pathetically sad is it that i have to use the word peanuts rather than the actual name for the male member.Ludicrous really.
|
|
|
0
Comments
|
|
A squirrels poem
|
Posted:Apr 4, 2011 11:40 am
Last Updated:Jul 12, 2011 4:58 am 11232 Views
|
My peanuts bring all the girls to the yard
And they likes it when i makes it hard
Two and a half pounds of stiffened lard
This little ditty could get me barred.
|
|
|
2
Comments
|
|
The death of dreams
|
Posted:Mar 18, 2011 7:53 am
Last Updated:Aug 3, 2014 5:08 pm 11414 Views
|
With new-birth comes the death of dreams.
A fair exchange of joy for sorrow.
So, at least until some new tomorrow
Let me grieve the death of dreams.
Let me cry for might-have-beens.
Let me mourn lost hopes.
While fate plays loose with future scenes
let me rest a while upon the ropes.
Happiness may supplant my tears
and joyous love may slay my fears.
For these few days let me grieve
as chances shrug and take their leave
Let me mourn the death of dreams.
|
|
|
2
Comments
|
|
Aff among the heather.
|
Posted:Feb 10, 2011 8:06 am
Last Updated:Feb 23, 2017 9:43 am 9544 Views
|
She's af' among the heather noo.
Aye, ma bonny lass has left me.
She wasnae meant to bide sae long
But she didnae want to fret me.
Aften when the reaper'd call
She'd hide beneath yon tartan shawl
and wait until he'd passed his way
for just to bide anither day.
She's af' among the heather noo
My sweethairt and beloved friend
It's haird to come tae terms wi' it
Such cherished love should ever end.
|
|
|
1
comment
|
|
