Superbowl LII

To Superbowl LII,
Irony stakes be cooked on high.
On bended knee oh how he tries
Though Anthem words escaped,
Assured he's sound of mind
In Star Spangled Banner draped:

Mantra: Make America Great!
Hide all bad news,  go bury fake
Eat as well as keep the cake
If this nation is divided,
For all of heaven sake
Use the tools provided! 

Grid iron is to galvinise,
Forget about the Russian spies,
Follow my words of wisdom wise
In climactic culmination, 
Forget wherefore and whys
Create unification! 

Avoid again our bloody hell, 
As AFL joins NFL! 
Let's get this country well
My Tweets apparently partly
Instrumental!  Some say swell.
In this seasons fine finale.

Guided by the Trump tower touch! 
Tweets of wisdom from the butch, 
About grid iron he knows so much
Liberty Bell, Philadelphia rings, 
Greatness within clutch
Half time the President sings!

Goliath to avoid the slings and arrows, 
The stones of outrageous fortune narrows.
Misguided sometimes harrows
Insanity? No way not at all. 
My brow though often furrowed
Rhyme n reason for the wall! 

Red hot favourites tickle bellies of under dogs
Cheese burgers, screens of White House blogs. 
Fake news the message fogs
End game, end zone,  don't leave it late. 
Create more jobs
Grid Iron to make America Great!

To the Lassies 2018

So as we sit around your table
And feast on haggies, whisky neeps
Addressing done there is one fable
Who wears the breeks upon their hips 

A man's a man for a that we say
Though I'm sure sweet lassies they'll say nay
We're the ones who wear the troos
Gentlemen a shame.  You lose! 

There's no such uncertainty as a sure thing 
The fellas they all sing
Buy red red rose let's us be schmoozers
Donald wears the troosers! 

Go mash the tatties go mash the neeps
Like Wee sleekin  cowering timorous beasts
We'll leave it to the red red rose
In our tam O shanter in recline repose

The best laid plans of mice and men
We'll leave it to the lassies then
Should old acquaintance be forgot
Just toast the lassies with a tot

Go mash the tatties go mash the neeps
Like Wee sleekin cowering timorous beasts
The best laid plans of mice and men
We'll leave it to the lassies then

As fair art though our bonnie lasses
It's time for us to raise our glasses
You wear the troosers we have no guilt
In fact we prefer to wear our kilts!

Modern Marvels

Had we but time to tweet our love,
Characters hidden in treasures' trove;
In an instant all is known,
Trending now is how its shown.
Followed,  liked,  hash tagged, re-tweeted
Mistress Coy maybe unseated
Shy, quiet a little flustered,
Carpe diem? Done and dusted! 

Love letters of a time gone by,
Written, sealed with tears of joy
With loving kiss, oh how I miss,
Nerve wracked first dance courtships!
The crafted words of quills be sent,
Enveloped vellum, the perfume scent.
Purposeful stride towards post box,
Heart beating fast with clasp of locks!

Heart warming smile, the letter dropped,
Like coin in wishing well, heart stopped.
The loving kiss, hope hit right note,
Gentle uttered words we spoke.
Trinkets, tokens, deepest thoughts,
Heartfelt wishes shared all sorts,
But alas the letter is second class,
Too slow need now instantaneous!

Now SnapChat stories to be told,
Behold their Midas touch of gold.
WhatsApp, what's next? AI self taught,
Algorithms read the thoughts
And minds, emoji's picture how we feel
Facebook status, brought to heel.
Carpe diem with Instagram
The weight is over, I'm your man!

Twitter fear

Wish I had a button,

Which tempered what I said;

Or some way of pausing,

The thoughts inside my head.

Moderate my tweeting,

Stop sending my outbursts.

Control my conscious streaming,

Engage my brain please first!

First confirm all of the facts,

Before I tweet falsehoods.

Tell the truth to be exact;

Honesty would be good!

Said farewell to Grosvenor square

Not sure how it's said.

Not Obama's deal be fair,

But I'll tweet it out instead!

Moved south of the river,

A visit to the realms?

I haven't brought my scissors.

Ain't going to Nine Elms!

Happy New Year

Twenty first century is coming of age,
Just learned to drive, now turning new page;
Needing ID to prove it is true:
I'm eighteen, I promise. Now what can I do?

Barred me from entrance into every pub.
No access to Pryzm, now here is the rub.
I'm eighteen, no passport, whether black, red, or blue,
Grand parents Irish apply for one soon!

The Great British passport, gateway to the World
Out with the bath water the baby is hurled:
European movement, it used to be freer
I'll prove it all soon,  so Happy New Year! 

New Year Resolution

Turkey carcass cased, 
Waste! 
In green food caddy placed;
Bones not boiled for broth, 
Tossed. 
At least bag will compost. 

Guilty, standing in the dock
What? 
Time for me take stock. 
Fricassee, curry, soup solution.
Revolution 
This New Year's resolution! 

Perth 1978 Boney M

Helen’s boy child Joseph Root, was born on December Day
Fans will live for evermore, don’t give the Ashes away
Long time ago in Nottingham oh so Cric Info said
Ashes retained so long ago you’d better listen in bed

Hark, now hear Barmy army sings a saviour was born today
In Perth fans sing for evermore, don’t give the Ashes away