THEY AREN’T GOOD NOTES WHEN…
–
I have no secretary,
I take notes on whatever I see…
If the reference obscure
Can’t be read for sure,
It’s no use in my poetry!
–
Like when I lost my glasses,
Determined to write for time passes…
Words ran together
Not useable ever,
Those nurses were mighty fine lasses!
–
I found I’d written already,
One poem from notes I had ready…
Time spent in decipher
Made me no wiser,
That idea’s put back to “beddy”.
–
–Jonathan Caswell
MEMORIES IN TRIPLICATE
Whist I lay down a while,
My wife went rooting up files…
In a big plastic box,
The smiling fox
Made several o’erflowing piles.
–
Memories we found a-plenty,
Overwhelming just how many…
And what befell
We found pictures as well,
Not all of which were put back away!
–
I found another box that could
Be used for photographs good…
That improved sorting
Without sporting
A cascading paper flood.
–
When I left for work, my Missus,
Planted on me one or two kisses…
Then she carried on,
The order to spawn
Among evident auspices.
–Jonathan Caswell
