Christmas Seating Plan

To relatives,visitors, friends and guests;
It's Christmas and you should have guessed.
Did you bring your personal seating,
As we join together for our Christmas greeting?

Around the table we need more chairs,
Go seek out seating to answer prayers;
Ornate whicker, bring down the stairs,
From garage bring out plastic garden wares.

Hidden under bedroom clothes,
For relatives that come in their droves.
Garden furniture, rickety some that squeaks,
Those fragile ones the old antiques;

Some once used around camp fire,
From low to medium and then to higher.
Mind your fingers, all hands on deck,
You can't use that oh what the heck!

Hide old and dirty under throws,
Cover up so no one knows,
Cover in cushions to raise them up,
Draw straws to make your luck,

Drag out chaise longue, sit on and dine,
But whilst consuming don't recline,
Please don't think a rude suggestion,
My thoughts will lead to indigestion!

Some will have to sit and rough it;
Seated  on old  kitchen buffet!
To finish the job, give us the tools,
Around the table we'll sit on stools.

Crammed around the Christmas table,
Like shepherds who came to visit the stable,
All are welcome to join our meal,
(It's got 4 legs my mother squeals)
Enjoy this family time together
Take your seat, on well, whatever!

Brexit Wines

Red, white, rosé not blue

the perfect wine we have for you

Sparkling, by the bottle, by the glass

Decanted into your carafe

Full bodied, light and crisp

Not too much to get you pissed

Ripe dark fruit vanilla aromas

Not too much to give hang overs

Black currant blackberry characteristics

14% vital statistics

Cabernet sauvignon with Merlot blend 

To be sommelier is my end

Find the perfect balance

Improve my nose ,my palate

Add freshness from the ripened vine

Versatile at any time

With chicken fish, red meat and veal

Perfect companion for any meal

With bread with game a must with cheese

I sense the scent of vineyard breeze

The wine best tasted whilst at home

No need for Europe no need to roam

I'll sample all  the wines I'll swoon

Of course i'll not need a spittoon

I'll savour every grapes last drop

Uncorked to breathe drink from the top

A connoisseur, a soupcon taster

And yes I'll end up really wasted!

Early Delivery

A carrot and some milk
A mince pie with a sherry
Left upon the mantel piece
To help them as they ferry

Gifts for all the children
Tip toe for silent sake
Kids that lie in bed asleep
The excited stay awake

Put dreams inside the pillow case
Hush the crackling sound
Of gift wrapped thoughts and images
That flicker all around

Fire burns warm and welcoming
Santa parks his sleigh

Descends into the chimney pot

It's always been this way

It seems that he is early

Down the chimney breast he turns

Until he nearly reaches hearth

On log burner bottom burned! 

According to the packing slip
Fire extinguished long ago
An error with the system
Glitch! There's no cooling snow!

Next year he'll put you down the list
Of his delivery scheduled ride
His bottom hopefully will have healed
Enjoy happy Yuletide !

Label's Fallen off

Christmas week's upon us
Presents wrapped in pretty bows
Placed beneath the Christmas tree
For who nobody knows

The labels they have come away
Sellotape has lost its stick
Enjoy the gift you'll get this year
A Christmas lucky dip

Tea my love ?

Oh finest lady, the finest brew,
You're fresh just like the morning dew.
The style the scent of perfect you.
Brewed from Tetley or Typhoo
Or Yorkshire Tea so strong, refining
Perhaps a tea thats brewed from Twinings

Refreshing, revitalising,
Tantilising, mesmerising!
No tea bag brew,
But leaves released
Spirit float free,
amongst the pot,
Infusing colour at any spot.
Faultless hostess
My girl, you swirl send in a whirl.
You flit and dance
You circulate and mingle,
You send us all a tingle.

Your character infusing colour,
Infectious, our clear water's duller,
A warming taint paints Autumn beige
A darker brown to calm from any rage.
Your mystery like Assam tea
Earl Grey perfect perfumery
To tantalise our taste buds
To send us out in gushing floods.
You pull our heart strings there
You are the blend beyond compare.
Refreshing, quenching,
Calming, soothing
A dash of milk to smooth the flavour
The finest tea the taste to savour
The taste tea leaves
Just time for one cup of wonderment
That is of course from heaven scent

So a toast to all the ladies here

Shall I put the kettle on dear?

England v Australia Dec 2016

From 14 players to 14 wins this week,
Is this the confidence with which we speak?
What is the secret of Eddie's conundrum?
Creating momentum, doing the hum drum!

Execution of the game in hand,
Let pundits talk of unbeaten slams,
Fish n chips, wooden fork with 'styrene tray,
Simple game plan this Saturday.

Players have the blue print for all "What ifs?"
The chance to use their skill and gifts.
Play the game from what they see ahead;
Have set plays but use their heads!

Australian grand slam dashed hope in Dublin,
Revenge on their minds are looking for trouble in
Twickenham, as whitewash lays its heavy weight;
Cuts deep, with Eddie and his press bait!

Can resurgent Wallabys find that extra form?
Can England manage that early storm?
They have the backs to cut to shreds,
England no penalties don't lose those heads!

Defence is key against those backs,
First up tackles to stem attacks;
Cheika knows balanced tightly in the scrum
How to unpick England, they can be undone.

England expects no press disrespect!
But for Eddie this will be the best win yet.
Strength in depth, eye for the common goal
Confidence, belief, keeps this team whole!

Grind them down, hit them hard;
Send them your own seasons greeting card;
End the year on a mighty high,
Come on England! Just one more try!

14 Believe

With your back to the wall when you're down to fourteen,
On the line is your body once more.
You've given your soul, you're battered, you bleed
Take heart and look at the score!

Phase after phase you've tackled and felled
Argentina will never give up;
Together your teamwork will keep them repelled,
It's time to make your own luck!

With Robshaw wired, he's here and inspired,
He's taken some crap on the chin,
He takes deep breath in, he's stoked and he's fired
And he knows that you never give in.

The villains of last year you poor world cup zeros
The judge says your sentance is quashed!
Prodigal sons you Twickenham heroes
13 wins on the spin you've white washed!

Look in the mirror and look at your mates
Together see what you've achieved;
That glint in the eye of New English greats
And its all because you believed!

England v Argentina

12 conquests under my command
Another one is what I demand
Excellence push the playing boundaries
These players moulded in english foundaries
Out of the shallow now into the deep
Victory focus keep clean sweep
Its time to play the master stroke
No need to fix if it ain't broke

Pumas bred on prime Pampas beef
Hope to cause the English grief
Pushed Scots close in Murrayfield
At Twickenham they will not yield
Pride of the Argentine this fierce pack
In England - Twickenham renewed attack
Sublime backs who are full of pace
A chance to rile get in the English face

But Eddie knows he has the squad,
the odds in favour to keep down trod
Take on the beef with fish n chips
Full of beans as Eddie quips
Execute play all the phases
Their last hurrah as England braces
Play at speed back row hunt and roam
Dominate the scrum to #CarryThemHome

#GrandTour

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
The way that Jeremy does present
Leads to many who resent
At least he's not been voted for
Or elected US President
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
Series content full of lip
Driving down the Vegas strip
At least he's not been voted for
The Leader of UKIP
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #Grandtour
He may think him sinister
Own medicine administer
At least he's not been voted for
The new UK Prime Minister
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
I am sure that Clarkson does annoy
Makes Brian throw about his toy
At least he's not been voted for
The US special envoy
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
With his childish behaviour
Antics grate him more and more
At least he's not been voted for
United States Ambassador
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
With comments that are quite innate
That make some people so irate
At least he's not been voted for
Curator of the Tate
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
Cars racing across the screen
Comments that are quite obscene
At least he's not been voted for
The Leader of the Greens
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
Talk of cars and this and this
Will he meet his nemesis
At least he's not been voted for
Lead singer of group Genesis
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
Car emissions so filthy
No producer who says hit me
At least he's not been voted for
The new Mayor of Whitby
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
Some say that he's a grafter
And causes many laughter
At least he's not been voted for
Or awarded any BAFTA!
 

Poor @Brian_Bilston
Clarkson back with his #GrandTour
Some say now that this is it
Alexa please just start this shit
At least he's not been voted for
Chief negotiator of Brexit!

To our Ladies' Day director Elaine or Wow!

E by Gum from the banks of the Humber,
By eck from the outskirts of ezzle;
From t city of culture down t M62,
Upt A19 for t embezzling few!

We've to mind us P's, as well as us Qs,
Elaine ' s watchful eye ensures that we do;
Talk proper, talk right, talk Yorkshire sense,
Casting and planning she was immense.

Attention t detail, where is her medal?
Don't recall ever, spool missin from treddle:
A Fish splice, some dancing,
Some mincing of meat,
Encouragement for all, for them with left feet.

So much enjoyment, she put in such graft.
Lots of rescheduling, my how we laughed.
Coping wi holidays, and them not around,
Commitments for some, how others would frown!

But not sweet director, she coped wi first time,
Int head Tony Christie, spinning them lines,
Great fun we're the winners! My what a blast!
A big ta to Elaine a fine Yorkshire las!

And when propper trouble down at the mill
Shelley's voice left her she had to back fill
Took to the stage like the natural she is
My show must go on it's the name of show biz!

Hope she'll relax, don't want us missin or craving,
Holiday perhaps in Patrington Haven.
Take in a classic, maybe George Elliot,
(Trans-gender novelist believe it or not!)

Out in her garden, no more watching telly,
Fully equipped in toe capped white wellies;
Blue net to wear, keeps hair in its places;
A trip down to Sandown place bet on some races.

A night on the town, down at Cindarellas,
Surrounded by silks and effeminate fellas;
Forget all them lines and that planning balony,
Extra cheese please on quattro stagioni!

All roads they are leading this way Ammarillo,
Elaine's head we hope now hitting that pillow,
An end to them nightmares, farewell haunting screams
Magnificent job done no more broken dreams.

So if tha's a drink that's preferably tea,
Raise it up now to say toast with me:
You are the greatest, this play highly ranks;
To dearest Elaine, seriously though, thanks!

England vs Fiji

The Autumn breeze swirls around Twickenham stands
As we sit and wait with clasping hands
The flags flutter the fans utter
Eddie makes demands

The game will not be one of ease
Internationals never an easy breeze
Eddies stern your shirt is earned
A must win game to seize

Don't let South Sea islanders blow us of course
Cheer full voice  until you're hoarse
Ten from ten another then
Next must win game of course!

Standing tight stand up as one
Ready for the starting gun
Listen chaps no handout caps
Continue this momentum

In fine voice Sweet Chariots echoes
Victory comes to those
Stand up proud, sing out loud 
Defeat those from the Archipelagos

Come on England's chosen players
Like St George the Dragon slayer
Honour the Rose thats worn by those
Who answer English prayers!

Hold Brexit for now

It’s been fudged by the high court judge.

Hard or soft it’s all aloft, pie in the sky,

As we wave good bye

To Brexit thoughts that come to nought

For now.

 

The hope for some, the dread for many,

Money for NHS is there any?

Where’s the £350m per week?

Hush! We no longer speak

For now.

 

Someone stole, or in black hole

It’s gone, Leavers scoring their own goal.

Pound is struggling, shares are juggling

Pension growth financiers smug (ling)

For Now.

 

Your money’s safe, new jobs create,

In Brexit’s wake, a Marmitegate.

Escape the clutches  if I understand

Article 50 ‘s all in hand,

For now.

 

Come March if you believe

It’s time to pack it’s time to leave

We’ll pay now for our country back

In Brexit’s new hardened back pack!

For Now!

The Jersey

Untouchable but by the few
Earned the right by the chosen who
Stand above, are worthy
To wear the Lions Jersey

Untouchable but by the few
Worn by those committed to
the game, its glorious journey
Who earn the Lions Jersey

Untouchable but by the few
The legends who have worn it too
Remember one thing firstly
It is more than just a Jersey

England v South Africa

The mighty Springbok, the wildebeest;
Transvaal troops are here to feast!
Cotezee burned by heat of braai
Kiwi roasting has gone by!

Seek shelter now on British shores,
Hoping now to settle scores.
Recoup, rebuild to mount assault
On Twickenhams famous fortress vault.

Tables mountain challenge tops,
Squeeze English lifeblood of its last drops.
But English fare have built their wall,
And now together they're standing tall!

But Jones still feels under pressure,
Despite Grand Slam it shows the measure,
Of will and drive of General Jones,
To achieve success such pride he owns.

Not satisfied by 3-0 white wash,
Autumn Internationals new path to cross.
Challenge of a year's clean sweep;
The leaves of last year buried deep!

Intensity of the training camps,
Preparation authority they try and stamp;
Broken legs and broken jaws,
England honour opens doors:

Key members of the squad depleted,
Strength in depth, players replaced repeated.
For those from cold, this is your chance,
To lead them with the merry dance.

South Africa, Australia and Fiji,
England take your chance to be;
Cock's of the North, and Southern too,
Means All Black's will come into view!

So first the Springbok must be tamed,
Wrestled strong, a forwards game,
Be brutal in defence,
Give nothing and send them whence?

With backs on hand to snipe and race,
To finish with an heir of grace.
Bring on this challenge your chance to take,
And earn the title of English greats!

Shirt of Legends

Eighteen victories on the bounce,
Matches close, matches trounced.
World Cups back to back,
Welcome of mighty All Black's!

Dominant in this great game:
Kiwi Fern this silver slither,
Others bow and wither.
Haka's sight is no forgiver,
Ruthless streak not for the meek;
Relish the tourist's visit.

But might, for Lions too.
The very best of Northern lights!
See chink of light against the Black
They've earned the right
To wear the shirt of legends.

Summon up every ounce of spirit,
Honour housed inside the badge:
Cameraderie held within it!
The chosen few, to join the pride,
Who wear the shirt of legends!

So as Young Lions, you take the field;
For everyone on British Isles,
You wear the shirt for us.
Hand picked few, go join the pride
You've earned the right,
Bright leading lights
To wear the shirt of legends!

Numquam im GOBO cacate

Remember the one and only rule,
The law of touring's golden jewel:
Play your rugby please think smartly
Above all else Numquam im GOBO cacate!

Whatever happens, whatever japes,
Remember together we are mates;
On the field, or in the Sun,
We know the rule that's number one:
Numquam im GOBO cacate!

Dougal obeyed law laid in stone,
Team comes first, you're never alone;
And when you've heard the final whistle,
Remember President's prime epistle:
Numquam im GOBO cacate

Rules and boundaries, over stepped marks.
Some are pushed by cunning larks,
But there's a line that never be crossed,
Or we'll cast away, your soul be lost:
Numquam im GOBO cacate!

Bow down low to Buffalo rules,
Accept the fine, right stupid fools!
Keep left and down them hard,
But don't forget the motto's card:
Numquam im GOBO cacate!

Some rules for bending, some you break,
But there is one you never piss take:
The golden rule, you may annoy,
BUT never shit on a Good Old Boy!
Numquam im GOBO cacate!

Rugby Boots

I remember my first pair of metal studded boots.
How they played the Pied Pipers most mesmeric of flutes
That magic and memories the sound stirs around
Footsteps on tarmac on my old school playground
A magnificent feeling with joy I abound
Matched mud on my knee caps with a resonating sound

Was I watched at all by a Twickenham crowd?
Each metallic step would they cheer out loud?
Alas not for me it's my imagination that matters
Each step was a symbol a symphonic clatter
Accompanied of course by some small school boy chatter!

Transforming those small steps now each mighty stride
Oh first rugby boots how they'd be my guide
From moulded boot boy to the moulding of men
To shape me to guide me, oh yes and then
It gave me the hope of playing  U10

Those metal studs, bolt-like, seeming so small
But screwed in my boots made me ten feet tall
There were six metal studs screwed into each boot.
Dreaming that magic make me fleet of foot
Giving me confidence I started to strut

Like iron hammer stud striking church bell
With the sound of each footstep my chest it did swell
Protecting cajoling symphonic brotherhood.
This choral caste, that made each step good
Ensured I blossomed from this yearling bud!

The peeling of each ringing star studded stride
Each concrete footstep it filled me with pride
Something immense I now do belong
Collective protection in this happy throng
The church bell rang loudly I joined in its song

That simple sound of metal studded boots
The echoes from corridors like fine armoured suits
The moulding of me from forbidden fruit
Team bonding together they showed me the route
The thoughts that it triggers of my playing days
We should all have played rugby is the sound that it says!

U13 Rugby

I may have never played for the Lions
Or pulled on my countrys shirt
I've played some games of rugby though
Had my face rubbed in the dirt

I've trained down in a mud bowl
On a cold wet Thursday eve
I've cantered out on a perfect pitch
And rolled up rugby sleeves

When the rain sheets down and playing up hill
And the wind blows in your face
You know there'll be a second half
The score line is no disgrace

Been battered raked and bruised a bit
Suffered the odd bloody nose
But with these little incidents
Confidence comes and grows

Batten down the hatches
Get on and give your all
Believe in yourself believe in your team
The bigger, the harder they fall

Been soundly thrashed had glorious wins
Its time now to believe
That playing through those hard times
You have to give to receive

The Lions play for the jersey
They play for the honour and crest
I play for all of my team mates
And as long as I try my best 

According to Sir Ian McGeechan
In an eloquent speech
I'm part of the Lions team make up
Oh what Rugby heights I've reached!

Autumn

Leaving is such sweet sorrow!
As they tumble from their branch hold;
Once firm, now free.
Released, relinquished to the will of Autumn's breeze;
This frieze; the green, golden, amber, browns,
Waiting in their departure lounge;
Once heraldic crowns now drowned.
The yellows of the setting sun, this last hurrah their loud fanfare.
The crunch of crispness underfoot.
Relief their job's been done. Enjoy your brief retirement.
Fondest farewell, shades signaling deciduous departure
To return in Spring, refreshed, renewed
The time for new belief!
But Autumn colours, such richness and inspiring views stretch out beneath!

Kicking leaves

There's golds, there's rusts, there's light brown hues.
Olive green mixes, there's dark tans too.
Warm Autumn colours make wonderful views,
It's time to get out there in fine sturdy shoes!

Will you walk amongst the fresh falling leaves,
That crisp and curl beneath our feet,
Or come to life with the breath of a breeze
And dance and greet us when together we meet?

We give them help, sending them on their way
When striding, a kick in our high ankle boots.
They tip toe and tap dance in the wind they all sway,
Hiding in hedges amongst the tree roots!

Blown hither and thither before they whither to waste,
Tumbling and turning a compost it makes.
In the Spring time we'll give thanks
When the new buds awake
Remembering fondly those leaf kicking pranks!

The colours of fall the warmth you instill,
Loving the Autumn fine vistas and views.
Like hot broth of soup warming memories fill,
A time to hold close our time to renew.
But what I love most at this time of year
Is kicking those leaves and holding you near!

It's kicking off in Stortford

It's kicking off in Stortford
New Cold War simmering hot
North Korea plan invasion
You can believe it all or not

There's battles being prepared for
The Strategy been agreed
Sun Tzu methodology
To ensure that we stay freed

Be the Duke Of Marlborough
Oudenade Ramillies Malplaquet
Generals of your armies
It's not war games that we play

Be Wellington at Waterloo
Montgomery and Huzzahs
Take on all your Gunner whos
Plan for last hurrahs

Henry V at Agincourt
Fight your own Honfleurs
Be a General Custer
It's time to earn your spurs

It's kicking off in Stortford
Why not join us if you can
We need to keep the world safe
Help from every woman and man!

Hinchley Wood station

The platform and station, the pedestrian bridge,
With rivots and panels across every ridge.
The branch line curves gently, the station has two;
Takes passengers in coaches to Waterloo.
Memories of train sets, those old iron frames;
Model railway assembly a playful mind game.
The facia, the hoarding, the shelter it gives;
Ferrying commuters from wherever they live.
Those early morn sleepers supporting the rails,
To be the train driver, telling of foot plate tales,
Dream of my father, like many a boy,
Would have to make do with their favourite toy.
Hinchley Wood station you living train set,
Need steam locomotive for idyll be met;
Engaged by the engines, the wandering mind,
Guage double o somewhere I think I can find;
Hidden aloft when last put away .
Be Station Master for the rest of the day!

New leaf

I'm feeling rather over weight
Time to turn new leaf
Now it seems the perfect date
And the start is self belief

Get out my tired plimsolls
To blow cobwebs away
Best get some new insoles
And start regime today

To rid me of this weight gain
Which I don't recall amassing
They've said that I'll require pain
Who hired silent assassin?

It's time to start, renew, refesh
Break away from clasping couch
Get off my big behind's my wish
Jump up! To action! Ouch!

They said no pain no gain
Stalled, fallen at the first
Ligament or bad strain
Done something getting worse

Like presents its thought that counts
I tried regime of fitness
I gave it full attention
Thanks for being my witness!

They looked at me and laughed

They looked at me and laughed
They said I must be daft
There's no place here for rhymers
Especially you old timers
Here's the sad and lonely truth
Festivals for youths

You should have left it well alone
Stayed inside your old folks home
With your ginger nuts and tea
Writing poetry
Smelling like some old urinal
Your resting place it will be final!

I said that I'm a poet
I tried to go and show it
I'm writing things that rhyme
They said don't waste your time
That genre's old and done
No one thinks it fun!

Anymore it's all over
I'm searching in the clover
It'll be a little gem
It'll be just one of them
That fires imagination
Fills with adulation

The one that comes with all the flare
You'll be there to stand and stare
You'll know it when you see it
You'll see it when you hear it
A rhyme that I confirm
Will be born an ear worm

People they will love it
They'll try and rise above it
But they won't it's been instilled
Over powering all their wills
And you'll all change your tunes
When I make my first fortune.

But I'll probably never find it
And you'll just keep reminding
That I was always lost
Like limp salad never tossed
You should have left it well alone
Stayed inside your old folks home

With your ginger nuts and tea
Writing poetry
Smelling like some old urinal
Your resting place it will be final
And here it is your epitaph
They looked at me and laughed!

TeamGB Rio Olympians

Remember best ever twenty twelve?
Rio Olympians think themselves:
This is our time!
Their belief! To achieve this is their chance on boat, or bike,
In pool, or on the track and field;
On horse, every arena, court and pitch,
Olympic rings ooze from every course.
Aside the ring, the boxer lands;
On lake the rower, on sea the sailors Rule Britannia sings.
At TV we'll sit, up late we'll stay awake.
We'll cheer, we'll shout,
We'll will you on in wee small hours
In hope that shooting stars adorn the night
And awake with morning medal showers!
This is your time go do your best!
Four years endeavour, the toil the sweat,
The heart, the joy, the pain;
The memories last forever!
But better than twenty twelve?
Golden chests swell, well well well!
Who would have believed the toil you sweated
Would mean that London could be bettered!

No More Road Rage in Thames Ditton

The village of Thames Ditton

So lovely and so quaint

In Domesday book we're written

But built for cars we aint

St Leonards Road, the High Street

Cars parked aside the road

Drive careful it's a tight squeeze

On Station and Watts Road

The roads in our proximity

Are full of cars and vans

We don't like any toxicity

When walking out with prams

If you happen to drive thru

We're not a fast food take away

But a busy bustling village true

Not some dual carriage way

It requires a certain patience

Let oncoming traffic through

Especially if by the station

We'll thank you it if you do

We're of certain era

We're of a certain age

Instructions can't be clearer

Please no more road rage

No place for single finger salutes

This will cause much scorn

In our approach we're resolute

No more beeping horns

When stopping behind the parked cars

Or at pedestrian lights

Stay calm we want no lasting scars

Please be nice, polite

Be sensible with your parking

Leave a gap or two

For people to wait in

Let oncoming traffic through

Your car we know's important 

If doing the school run

You've Busy lives and time is scant

It's stressful and not fun

We'd appreciate it kindly 

And this is what we'd  like

If you're coming to Thames Ditton

Please walk or ride your bike!

Thames Ditton Farmers Market

Take a stroll around the market,
Come and see our wares,
Taste and sample, there is ample,
Delights for you to share!

We start with Giggly Pig Sausages,

Outdoor reared packed in tidy packages

Taste Ringden Farm pears nice and juicey

Smoosh Acai Bar for Smoosh bowls and their smoothies

Secretts Veg , oh how I wonder

What delights available from our fresh fishmongers?

Catch for crab cakes fish cakes whole

Portland for Turbot and Dover sole

Artisan Bakers, Celtics fresh sourdough bread,

Artists paintings, portraits ahead!

Cheddar traditional Matured Batch Farm cheese;

Lets go on the Hunts Hill for their free range meats.

Sussex pies, there are no surprises,

They're everso good, they've won many prizes

Cote dei Signori fine Olive Oil
Extra Virgin from Sicilan toil

For Sweet toothed patisserie there's Folie Macaron

Layered meringue cakes for celebration

Intersection of cookie and cake wakey wakey

Desire quenched by Laugan's fair Cakies!

Nut Knowle farm pasteurised Goats cheese

Oak chipping Sussex Smokers curing their meats.

V J Game - venison and wild boar galore
Master butcher has much more in store.

Bee inspired with soothing skin creams

Kingston go cycles, new cycle path dreams

Sauces from Manny, Anila who'll win

Hush a quiet drink by Silent Pool Gin

Three Olive Trees, black, green, pitted, stuffed
Whatever way we hope that you're chuffed!
As are we - We hope you're now smitten
With our Farmers Market in Thames Ditton!

The Train Commute

The stench of Commuting Train:
Its odour, the whiff, the smell;
The daily grind of living hell.
The cattle truck crammed;
Cows, pigs, chickens, sheep
Crumpled, cramped and slammed
Inside pig pen in heap.
Some seated, standing room for most;
The pits! The sweated boast,
The grunt of sow,
The moo of sacred cow.
To market, black mark it!
Chatter of hens in chicken coop.
The written scoop of daily commute;
Standard, Metro gossip galore,
Fight tedium with closed eye snore!
Or stare at smart phone snare,
The portal, escape tunnel's light laid bare.
Long hot Summer days, the neighs,
The yays of Brexit bound.
The sound, the rattle of the cattle track.
The scent of Southern striking, soured, smacks
The livestock market death of rolling stuff.
Enough!
A sink hole drains the life,
Another daily strife;
With heavy air this stinking train,
And yes of course we're late again!

To the Winners!

To be a winner, you need a loser!
Someone who plays their part,
Gives their heart,
Not the plodder, nor the fodder.
Who give whole soul,
To achieve their goal,
But fall short of desired result;
There's no insult,
Their's is no shame,
They made the game!
In coming second,
It's not what they reckoned,
Not what intended,
But how it ended.
The valiant, the vanquished, the anguished
Their light extinguished.
The inches, the yard, the feet.
The difference between the win - defeat!
There is no shame, be not abuser,
To be a winner you need a loser!

Not everyone can win,
The margin can be thin.
For some the best team won.
For others,
Wrong side of coin's toss, a loss;
Hangs round the neck this albatross!
Nothing is left out on the field,
Is it fate, where victory's sealed?
They toil, they try with all their might,
Put up such ferocious fight,
Compete in head to head;
Come second when all is said!
On the day, it's not their day,
They'll have their day one day.
The wait maybe much longer
Their come back will be stronger.
Experience - hope you learned;
Respect it must be earned.
Not everyone can win you see,
Winners enjoy  sweet victory;
Losers back to the drawing board,
But please God don't be overawed;
The Phoenix rises, spring surprises
Your time will come it's not a crisis.
Congratulate the victors with their feat,
Be magnanimous in defeat.
Onto sorrow drowning down the boozer,
Every winner needs a loser!

Belief

With your back to the wall when you're down in Melbourne,
On the line is your body once more.
You've given your soul, you're battered and worn
Take heart and look at the score!

Phase after phase you've tackled and felled
But Australia will never give up;
Together your teamwork will keep them repelled,
It's time to make your own luck!

With Robshaw wired, he's here and inspired,
He's taken some crap on the chin,
But he takes deep breath in, he's stoked and he's fired
And he knows that you never give in.

The villains of last year you poor world cup zeros
The judge says your sentence is quashed!
Prodigal sons you'll come home as heroes
With the Wallabies 3-0 White washed!

Look in the mirror and look at your mates
Together see what you've achieved;
That glint in the eye of New English greats
And its all because you believed!

Garage Bill

Bloody Hell! My ML bill,

Means I'll have to change my will!

Mercedes Benz my Hades friends

How much to look under the grille?

A warning light that flashes on;
Turn the key, it's sometimes gone.
Mercedes Benz inflation sends

The charge into oblivion!

Safety is our priority
That's why the bills so high you see

Mercedes Benz can money lend?

Or just take a look for free?

No extortion racket, we'll fix a bracket

Honesty we do not lack it

Mercedes Benz will fix a sens(or)

Corresponding charge to crack it!

Flaming Zafiras

Don't be in fear of

Your Vauxhall Zafira.

It hurts us and it shames,

That some burst into flames!

And isn't it exciting,
The thought of it igniting;
When doing the school run,
Going down the shops, it's fun!

A car that families all desire:

Doubles as a camping fire,

On all those family trips,

Ging-Gang Goolies have been gripped!

Our guidance we hope is nice and clear,

We'll contact you all some time next year,

With further instructions,

If you you've had no self destructions!

It's no use petitioning,
Don't use the air conditioning,

Just demisting your screens,

Full fan hides all of your screams!

Safety's recommendation:
Stay near a fire station.
Our aid it comes in spades,
Have speed dial for fire brigades!

Dont fan the flames of fear,

We will still be here,
With our lifeline number buoyed

If your car's not been destroyed!

Don't be in fear of
Your Vauxhall Zafira
NCAP rating five
Will ensure you stay alive!

Tour De Yorkshire

I've sent my whippets to Walthamstow,

Pigeons to Trafalgar Square;
My front lawn needs a cut and mow,

My canaries could do with care!

Old hobbies are being neglected,

In favour of something new;

My shed's full of bikes selected,

To keep fit and healthy too.

No garden forks, just carbon forks,

As well as my lycra kit;

Leads to some with eyes on stalks

Come on this is it!

Since Harry left his Guiseley place,

There's no more fish and chips;
Said goodbye to newspaper plates,

Isotonic drinks one sips!

Farewell flat cap it's now a kask
Since Dickie Bird last raised his finger
Why at last is this you ask
There's change, no time to linger

Out with roast and Yorkshire puds

Now protein shakes and gels
Said farewell to roast for good
It's them that belly swells

It's cycling that inspires for sure,

The County's Grand depart;

Beginning of Le Tour de Yorkshire

It's the start to race the heart.

There's no more grim inscriptions,

On dark satanic mills;
Just beautiful descriptions,

Of Yorkshire's Dales and Hills!

Cycling's now set out its stall,

Built a bright new Yorkshire brand
That's as sturdy as them dry stone walls

That adorn the county's land.

To the people of Yorkshire who aided

A toast! With Tea in hand!

And of course we'll be serenaded

by  Brighouse & Rastrick Band!

Tour de Yorkshire

I used to go to bakery, I used to walk for 't bread,
But I don't like walking anymore, I like to ride me bike instead.
Since they told us o Tour de Yorkshire, God's own county's Grand Depart,
Well I dusted off me tricycle, now where is the start?
I've begun me preparation they'll need me for the race
Although I'll have to do more practising if I'm to set the pace.
It's bloody hilly round here and full of cobbled streets
At my age they say no cycling I should stick to my two feet;
I need a risk assessment? Nay lad I'll be reet,
I'm ready and I'm able I will have them beat.

I'm sure the other residents they look at me and frown,
As they see me struggle up them hills, they see me racing down.
It's a bugger goin up them hills, like our finest Grand Old Duke
And them cobbles when I'm going down, well they shake me till I puke.
I've had to buy more Fix-o-dent to keep me teeth in t' face
Them cobbles are right bleeders and t teeth chatter out of place.
I hope my brakes will hold out when I come down wi' me bread
I dont want a wreath wi' teeth in saying the silly buggers bled.
He should have walked to bakery and left that bike in shed

If he'd have left it t' professionals he wouldn't end up dead!

Thank you to the Tearooms of the National Trust

Autumn's age approaching,
Its time to make the best;
So I've taken now to bicycling
And its giving me new zest.

I maybe Lycra clad,
But still got some hair and graces,
Please don't think me sad,
Like to ride to favourite places.

I'm Strava'd up, don't stop me,
Got new Virtual friends,
Like a big kid on my Chopper,
Childhood never ends.

Head off towards the Surrey Hills,
On the elixir of youth,
Keeping Autumn light from spills?
Am I too long in the tooth?

Receding hairline shrouded,
In helmet's mist of time.
My lycra's overcrowded,
Can't hide autumnal lines.

If I'm tiring as I pedal,
Know there's one treat just for me.
Better than any gold medal,
it's the thought of a pot of tea.

A goal that keeps me going,
My disappearing aches,
As I weave with to and froing,
It's that treat of tea and cakes!

So keep those pedals circling,
Like vultures in the sky,
Soon I shall be hurtling,
Into  tea and apple pie.

On the hillside debris strewn,
Of broken hopes and dreams.
In need of NT tea room,
The jam, the scones, the screams!

Leith Hill and Box Hill inclines,
Newlands Corner's place of rest,
For weary legs, big waistlines
Of the new cycling obsessed.

Revived with cups of tea
After my gut has just been bust,
Releasing me to cycle free,
Thanks to the National Trust!

On the hillside debris strewn
Of broken hopes and dreams
In need of NT tea room
The jam, the scones, the screams!

Thank you tearoom finery,
You will get us home,
On our new fangled machinery
And our freshly creaking bones,

So thank you to the tearooms,
We will make it, just!
Oh thank you to the tearooms
Of the fabulous National Trust!

England Cricket 2015 Ashes in a poem

From elation down in Cardiff
What a lead we had earned
Our upper lips with pride now stiff
Could we win back precious Urn?

On towards the home of cricket
To the chastening of Lords
The lip now bruised and bloodied
When we were put to sword

But at Edgbaston resurgence
Bells begin to chime once more
Root's continued emergence
The heart of England's core

Finn reborn on English turf
Anderson well tried
To taunt the Aussies in their surf
And of course there is Broadside

So now onto Trent Bridge
Watch series ebb and flow
Nerves all on a knife edge
How will installment go?

Captain Cook asks for focus
Barks for great Endeavour
Tells the team it's about us
Ashes thoughts forever!

A Phoenix from the ashes
Last series such disdain
"A victory!" Cook despatches
The Ashes be regained!

An opening day all will remember
100 balls is all it takes
Aussie attack dismembered
By Broad who figures eight

The catches stick the bowling quick
Is all what it seams?
The swinging ball the Ashes nicked
This is the day of dreams!

Captain Cook now plays his part
Oh yes it comes to those
Root and Bairstow show their heart
How proud to wear Wh'trose!

Day two it needs another
The Aussies attack be choked
Not famous A N other
But none other than Ben Stokes

A patient day all play their tune
Will those wickets fall?
Catches slip they will come soon
And of course there's those no balls!

He's one hand on the Ashes
The lips to kiss and earn
Respect from all Cook bashes
Oh how the tables turn!

Captain Cook asks for focus
Barks for great Endeavour
Tells the team it's about us
Ashes thoughts forever!

A Phoenix from the ashes
Last series such disdain
"A victory!" Cook despatches
The Ashes be regained!