Six Nations Rugby England v Ireland Match Day

#Shouldertoshoulder, lead by Rory Best,
Upon their shirts their shamrock crests.
1 draw, 1 loss, tide turns today
The roars, the cheers, oh what a day!
The ringing of Fields of Athenry,
Come on Ireland we'll hear them cry!

Your cabbage patch will be our Green,
To haunt your World Cup broken dream.
Irish pride and Celtic gall
To crush your crumbling fortress wall
You have 2 wins under your belt
Well, welcome home it is heart felt!

Our Irish finest Heaslip and Finn Mac Cumhail
The Causeway's best fight tooth and nail
A chance to give a bloody nose
To those who wear the white and rose;
Come on Connaught clans and men of Munster, 
Leinster greats and players of Ulster!

The chariot returns to Twickenham home
First welcome for new General Jones.
Aggressive pack, wild and heavy freight
Take on up front avenge the world cup weight!
Scots threat quelled, Azzuri felled
To Ireland with a team well gelled.

The mighty pack, those twinkle toes
Of backs the thorns of English Rose,
Who dart and probe, get under skin
Beguile break through for first home win?
Who would bet against this set 
A game in store appetite now wet.

The Shamrock Guiness pours
The Irish Whiskey, now what's yours?
With open arms and soft words spoke
An all embracing tackle choke.
Look forward to this mighty craic
For honours, with the Champions back to back!

General Jones rebuild our home!
Return to winning ways home grown
The bigger - the harder - the Irish fall
The Red Rose building the fortress wall
Let's carry on where we left in Rome
Come on England lets #CarryThemHome!

Six Nations England v Ireland

Reigning champions, its about regaining pride
As they march to Twickenham, no place to hide!
The raining poured in the Stade de France,
Not quite #6Nations jig or merry dance.
The ball became a bar of soap
Did the Championship slip to a distant hope?

Principality draw, a one point loss;
It was close a bit like one coin's toss,
The knife edge, the margin between the loss or win,
The line, the difference it is so thin.
So near, so far will fans now beg
Heads held high or tails 'tween legs?
Is the bit now firmly between their teeth
Surely this year no #6Nations wreath!

So Ireland are they on the rack
What welcome from the Cabbage patch?
Will Joe Schmidt repair their wounds?
Turn into Irish wolfhounds soon?
As they search for their first victory
But England await, let's wait and see.

The English fresh from travels abroad,
Italy and Scotland put to the sword;
New general Jones showing his authority
Goading, gaining notoriety.
The tinker, the tailor, changing the mix
Jonathan Joseph adding his hat tricks.

Sniping half backs, bossing pack
Prepared for Irish planned attacks.
Sextant Sexton with his high ball
Elementary for Watson, please stand tall.
A house party for Nowell and Brown,
Come on England lets go to town!

Momentum building it's time to strike
Fear into Irish and all alike.
Too early to talk of things grand slam
Focus on the game at hand!
It's time a chance balance redress, 
Let's rebuild Twickenham's strong fortress,
Continue from where we left in Rome
Come on England lets #carrythemhome!

Six Nations Rugby Italy v England

They put to rest old Banquo's ghost
That tragedy of the World Cup hosts
The Calcutta Scythe cut Scottish Woe
A win's a win, not greatest show
To take on Scots in burning cauldron
The result for Jones  "Job done we won!"

Wheels back on the straight and narrow
A new victorious burning arrow
The chariot rumbled, Vunipola trundled
The forwards bossed and bundled
The backs combined and try created 
But also kept the Scots sedated

The chariot heads towards the Appian Way
A good hiding required the papers say
General Jones building to a burning glory
To the Azzuri for another story
Parisee apart from botched dropped kick
Was a class above, what makes him tick?

The breakdown's key says General Jones
On the road to Stadio Olimpico 
God's speed and pace is what we need
Unlock quick ball let backs be freed
Seek burning gold, chariot of desire
Come on England's Swing Low Choir
Its time boys to go inspire
And listen to Jones our new messiah!

Six Nations Rugby Scotland v England 2016

A chance for the World Cup hosts,
To bury deep those World Cup ghosts.
Make Murrayfield a buried field,
The nightmare signed and sealed
Beneath cairn stones,
Which pave the way for General Jones,
To ignite a chariot of desire
Come on England's new messiah!

Auld enemy from Highland and Scottish borders,
Seeking revenge these motivated marauders,
With reeling open wounds still gaping.
They feel England for the taking?
Australian loss tore at their soul.
A renewed vigour with a hardened goal
So near, so far, last kick, last gasp,
An English victory is within their grasp!

The budding flower springs eternal hope.
World Cup success now still in scope
Pretenders to the Crown this year!
Battle hardened, brave hearts full of cheer;
To Murrayfield with fired bellies and poems Burning,
A victory now is what they're yearning.
To seal a win on their home turf
No longer playing second string serf!

England's noble yeoman of the guard.
Fight inch by inch and yard by yard,
New Captain's passion felt from the Hartley
Inspire the spirit, but do it smartly.
Prepared to repel this blue onslaught.
They'll fight their corner, first victory sought.
English pack and backs combine as one;
There's unfinished work still to be done.

The celtic wild oh how they'll rile,
Keep honest discipline, stay rank and file.
Tackle hard get in their face
No penalties, be chieftains of this pudding race!
Clashing clansmen clad in tartan cloaks,
Again armed with their tackle chokes
Poised with pints of heavy thoughts
Brave heart Scotland a victory wrought!

The English folk fight common foe,
Will Calcutta scythe reap Scottish woe?
Can backs repeat with twinkle toe
And the forwards' chariots rumble so?
A chance England for recompense.
The games afoot and so intense,
Wipe away that memory loss
Time again for 6 Nations boss!
Return to winning ways home grown
Come on England #CarryThemHome!

I Blame Bradley Wiggins - the MAMIL

The husband who has reached that ripe old age and likes to fill his lycra and the Surrey hills with the Help of Kingston Borough Council. Inspired of course by one man.....

My missus is quite angry, she thinks I've gone quite mad,

Since Sir Bradley won the tour you see, cycling’s been me fad.

So I worship Bradley Wiggins, where's the harm in that?

And I love donning the Lycra she says that I look like a prat.

Though the outfit isn't flattering, can't hide my mid-life spread,

I'm trying to reduce my paunch a bit before I end up dead.

Life revolves around my bicycle, use Kingston’s cycle paths.

No more need for motor cars, now see how I laugh!

She doesn't understand my pain, she knows not of my plight.

It’s called a mid-life crisis, all I want’s to ride my bike.

She needs to count her chickens, don't want a new Thai bride,

All I wants to mount my bike and just go out and ride!

It's a crisis, it's my mid-life, it's austerity

I've taken to the cycling which is much more fun for free.

With the blue skies and the scenery in those Surrey Hills,

Means getting lots of exercise and cutting down on pills.

So Sir Bradley, I am trying, to stay within your wake,

The mutterings of my lady wife, how much can I take?

I'll follow how you're doing in the time trial and the tours

And continue with me cycling risking wrath of her indoors.

And now Kingston Council have banned cars from the road

I can cycle up the Portsmouth Road to my home abode

People think I’m crazy they’re putting up their banners

But it really isn’t me that’s mad. It’s Kingston Borough’s Town Planners!

I Blame Bradley Wiggins - the poor long suffering, caring wife

A man reaches an age where sore feet stop him from pounding the streets, and the allure of lycra becomes too much. Oh yes and the inspiration of 1 man and the worries it causes his long suffering wife...

In 2012 my husband changed, the thought just makes me wince,
He's still a loving husband, but has been strange ever since
And if I cast my mind back to that year in July,
I recollect it started with a scream and cheerful cry
When I luked into the lounge to see the cause of the commotion,
He was staring at the telly with a look of pouels devotion;
The screen shone a bright yellow, like my kitchen top formica,
There was a man on bike with side-burns wearing figure hugging Lycra.
You see Bradley, he had triumphed, in the cycling Tour de France
Since then you see my husband's, been in this sort of trance.

Then in early August, things started to get worse
When watching the Olympics, I think that was the curse.
It wasn't the flag waving or cheering any British folks,
It happened at the cycling and was caused by this one bloke.

Well the affect that it has had on him, well he hasn't been the same;
The only thing I think of that Bradley is to blame,
You see he started talking language, that I don't understand
Of hubs, derailleur, gear sets, don't think it's under hand
He garbled about cadence and the peleton
He chuntered in this language, what was my fella on?

His bike thats what me fella's on, cycling everywhere
I don't mind when he is on it, but it's that extra facial hair
And the thing that really worries me and causes heads to turn
Is the style of his new clothing along with those sideburns;
It's the fact he wears tight lycra, oh my god it's such a site.
If only he would wear it when he's riding on his bike.

When Bradley missed the tour last year, I thought I michal just get him back
He'd forget about the lycra and wear his Marks and Spencers slacks
But it seems my wishful thinking, well it happened just too soon
He's now got an obsession with another bloke called Froome
And any chance of him returning,  well there definitely aint
He gallivants in his lycra and says call me Geraint!

The Challenge of video Conferencing - Let's do it! Thank you Victoria Wood!

So sad news about Victoria Wood. Very funny and inspiring. Here's something adapted, relating to my day job as a Briefing Centre Specialist  in the Video Conferencing World

Freda and Barry sat one day
The office gloomy didn’t have much to say
The lights were on the screens were up
Freda drained her Costa cup

She licked her lips she felt sublime
Get ready for collaboration time
Barry cringed in fear and dread
As Freda grabbed his tie and said
 

Let's do it let's do it
Let's go and all meet now
Use Outlook to go book
Boardrooms not a sacred cow
Need a conference no nonsense
Any place can be a video conference
Let's do it let's do it tonight

He said
I can't do it I can't do it
I can't join a conference call
You're obsessed now I'm stressed
Expect to dial IP that’s all?
No derision my decision
Don't want to see me face on television
I can't do it I can't do it tonight

She said,
Let's do it let's do it
Let's all meet adhoc
No muddle, just huddle
Any place could hit the spot
Annotation Elaboration
Come on baby find a space for collaboration
Let's do it let's do it tonight

He said,
I can't do it I can't do it
I'll need help from  IT
I've been spurned I've been burned
I've used it before you see
Got furious, insidious
Previous experience was really hideous
I can't do it I can't do it tonight
 

She said,
Let's do it let's do it
Have a meeting on the go
A new solution a revolution
You must see the new Trio
For a fuddle just huddle
Simple to join together we could even cuddle
Let's do it lets collaborate tonight!

He said,
I can't do it I can't do it
I need to meet face to face
What's much worse I'm nervous
I hate video interface
I'm a glutton for a button
Give me click to join and I won't go to Sutton
I can't do it I can't do it tonight

She said,
Let's do it let's do it
Let's meet in the new Centro
It's mental we're central
Just click to join and off we go
Breaks new ground its great sound
Everyone's included cos we meet in the round
Let's do it let's collaborate tonight