Suitable outfits for this weather we're having

What to wear?

Shorts but take an umbrella?

Take a waterproof jacket?

Cagoule and an Hawaiian shirt?

Suncream and full scuba gear?

Oilskin coat with a T-shirt and budgy smugglers?

Welly boots and a welders mask?

Flip-flops and a 'haz-mat suit' ?

Snorkel, mask and a 'mankini'?

Sun hat and skis?

Bikini and a boat?

Sunglasses and a Skidoo?

Ankle socks and an astronauts helmet?

A windbreak and linen top?

Aftersun and stilts?

Huskies, a sledge and a wide-brimed hat - whatever

it doesn't matter!

You're going to get it wrong anyway!

Being Twelve

I wish now at 12, to my future self

I'd written; safely put away.

A letter all about lifes joys

that I could read this very day.

For at 12 I used to think a fart

the funniest thing on earth,

I simply couldn't reason why

the girls didn't share my myrth!

I wore the skills that I possessed 

regarding undoing a bra,

like a certificate I'd need someday

to help me journey far!

My body seemed to have started,

to do the strangest things.

Girls had become a distraction

as if my mind had grown wings!

Collecting girlfriends like "football cards"

was quite the thing to do.

Never just a single one,

I'd always have a few!

I wasn't quite sure what we should do

a boy and a girl together,

there was always something else to do,

it was always football weather!

I'd just discovered 60's music,

the 70's stuff was OK.

"The Bay City Rollers" didn't really do it

but "The Slade" I'd sometimes play.

Now...

At 64 it's the simple things,

I have a favourite hob

and am building up to retirement,

from my part-time job.

Here I am at 64 

you would have thought that I'd know better...

but I might just go find a pen

and write myself that letter!

I could ask my wife

if I could practice on her bra and revive

I think it's most important,

to keep those skills alive.

Mmmm?

...I think those thoughts I'll go shelve

and just go back to being twelve

She Was Dead

No need to Google

just sound the bugle!

Taking the directive

to an outcome most affective.

Tired of waiting

his teeth grating

...with repentance

is not a complete sentence

who's repentant, 

a distant dependant?

An aunt twice removed,

lineage proved?

No need to threaten 

our friendly Tibetan.

I watched the appeal 

he'd never conceal

the Nokia phone, 

his cover was blown.

That wasn't me

the fallen oak tree!

He'd wired the car

so she couldn't drive far

perverting the cause 

to great applause

a bang on the head

and gone; she was dead

Word Definitions

In a discussion aimed at reaching an agreement

you need good luck in making 

an unexpected 

but fortunate discovery

in the action of leaving - or ceasing,

work,

given a series of thoughts, images, 

and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep

like finding a food or drink which,

having a pleasant, 

distinct or tasty flavour,

not too unusual, 

nor too extreme, 

for the amount of muscle a body possesses, 

having all the necessary

well-developed muscles,

and being too infinite to be adequately described

yet being able to confess to being true 

or to be the case

that of being afraid of Americans.

A fan-tab-ulous day

With sand where sand shouldn't be

And suncream on your shirt

And the dog on your foot

And a pebble in your shoe

And ice-cream on your nose

And wind in your ears

And your bum half off the chair where you sit

And coffee stains on your trousers,

And you; deeply lost in that novel you're reading

And your left sandle lost to the sea with your grandmothers ring

and the change from your pocket

And you can't find the tissues

'cos they're lost in the bag that you hastily packed

so the coffee cups were left 

with your mobile phones' charger

and those sunglasses you bought

with that case that you liked

And the sun cream runs out

And the spare's in the car

And you don't feel inclined to walk back and get it

So your face turns bright red like a twice grilled tomato

And you know that your colleagues will kill themselves laughing when you go back to work

You then; fall flat on your back as your beach chair collapses

And you lye in heap in hysterics

nearly crying

And you get yourself up 

And you think that's enough so trudge back to the car

And you can't find your keys

So you go back and find them

And unlock the car

And throw your whole world in the cars waiting boot

And open your door

And collapse in your seat...

and...

...and you know that you've had a fan-tab-ulous day!

Llaingaled

Listen!

Hear the echos of those this cottage has known, 

people long since departed,

but within these comforting walls - their souls live on.

Like the chair where Grandpa sat

the one with the swan arm-rests, the one he loved!

See him sat warming himself in front of the range.

Llaingaled always welcomed friends and family alike.

There were always people to light the range for,

pots of warming and welcoming tea to be made.

This place is a place to snuggle in the cold of winter.

A place with the constant sound of children,

echos heard

running up and down the hallway - squealing with excitement in the garden,

climbing the ladder,

with rough n tumble in the loft.

Just listen!

Having moved far away

these children now grown up and doing grown up things - still their souls live here.

These walls contain the joy of each child,

and the love they found here.

Now these walls contain the joy of their children,

with the trips to nearby beaches

with the chance of heavy February snow falls,

with snowmen to build,

snowball fights to be had,

after which fingers to warm up in front of the range where Grandpa sat.

Everyone who's visited this place - even briefly as we did,

is now a part of this place and it's history.

This place that is briefly Pippas,

Peters, and Davids,

in time will pass on to their children,

for them to hold onto tightly, 

and to love, 

like all that have visited this place,

and to love it forever.

As you sit there,

feel the history - hear the echoes!

It's all around you - and you are now a part of it.