SPEAK TO ME OF THE SEA

Speak to me of the sea

Of oceans and some distant shore

Of storm ravaged mains

And where the maelstroms roar

Tell to me of the tall ship

And stars you steered her by

And the sound of breakers

Where ghosts of sailors cry

Speak to me of golden sands

Of exotic lands afar

Of people dressed in silk

What is south of Zanzibar?

Tell me of those mountains high

And deserts where Nomads roam

And where are those palaces

That a prince would call his home

Speak to me of mysteries

Of wonders to behold

Of kings and queens of foreign lands

And temples made of gold

Tell me I’m not dreaming

And what I see is true

And those pictures I see in your eyes

Hold visions of lands anew

I was inspired by a painting of 'The Boyhood of Raliegh' by John Everett Millais1829- 1896

THESE OLD BONES

With the onset of age and the onset of winter, the body takes on a yearning for  warmer climes away from the cold damp bone chilling climate of Britain. 

These old bones feel the cold
These old bones are getting old
These old bones wont last much longer
These old bones will not get stronger
These old bones

These old bones are getting weaker
These old bones the futures bleaker
These old bones can't stand the strain
These old bones and the winters rain

These old bones

These old bones need some mending
These old bones for a happy ending
These old bones need some sun
These old bones and the battles won
These old bones

These old bones and the days are longer
These old bones are getting stronger

These old bones are meant to be
These old bones and the vitamin D
These old bones

These old bones are feeling fine
These old bones and a glass of wine
These old bones were meant to be  
These old bones are part of me
These old bones

GOODBYE BOOZE

I'm on the wagon

I'm feeling fine 

no more beer 

no more wine

no more morning after

no more listning to the laughter

of those who do not imbibe

but take pleasure in the jibe

their time will come as it must

my turn to laugh is, when the boot,

is on the other foot.

POETRY NONSENSE

Some poetry is rather obscure in its message, which leads
 readers to procrastinate on the intention
of the author.  Have a think about this
 and tell me what I already know.
the answer is in the last word.

Read this and despair
no rhyme no reason
of what, why and where
words placed by a lunatic
to give an insight, what makes him tick?​​
on separate lines it looks so neat
bow down and kiss my feet

or hang down your head
and proclaim what sorrow
what will emerge in the morow
more of what came the yester
is this a fool or just a jester

you can write about a rainbow

or the sun in the sky
or a babbling brook
and fishes swimming by
you can write of little children
and fishes in a stream
rainbows on a sunny day
it makes you want to scream.
god give me the strength
to put pen to ink
let me write what people think
although these lines are so immense
they really are just!
 'nonsense'.

THE EGOTIST

A diversion from the usual work, but sometimes you just have to say it.

Egotism is the anisthetic that dulls the pain of stupidity.

No one loves an egotist

His world is self contented

 no one ever gets so close

His love is self directed

And if he ever tells you

Your wonderful to know

And how lucky you are

to be with him

Its time for you to go

How important  is he

I just forgot to ask

I suppose I didn’t notice

His head was up his ass

I do remember thinking

I Just forgot to tell

He said it was just wonderful

And what  a lovely smell

I love me ever so much

I could cover me with kisses

I think I would get married

 if I could be, my own Mrs.

 never miss  an opportunity

To tell the world you know

Just how important I've become

And I put on quite a show

If you want an Opinion

He’s got them made to measure

Nothing would delight him more

And give him so much pleasure

To have you think that your the one

That was doing all the thinking

And when its time to count the sheep

He’ll be  doing the bleating

As a frontline troop, he makes a stand

 the guns are loaded

Pen in hand

But when the  bullets start to fly

and his world is full of flack

One thing you can be sure

He will be standing at the back

CUT PRICE BOOZE

Cut price booze and cardboard bed

Concrete slab for my head

Old worn out coat and shoes

All the badges of cut price booze

Now I lay me down to sleep

Counting demons instead of sheep

Oh Jesus if you are mine

Turn the water into wine

My god is here within this tin

Its a battle I can not win

I need a drink, I need it now

To pacify my fevered brow

Pray for me in my sorrow

Or spare a pound for tomorrow

This shop doorway is my roof

My bible says 40 proof.

Just trying to see from another perspective, through the eyes of a desperate soul.

SWAN SONG

The ups and downs of young love.

someone breaks your heart,

then someone comes along and mends it again.  

When a young heart breaks

when a dream comes to an end

you feel the world has ended too

into despair your spirits sink

all is lost you really think

then you turn the corner

and she was there

that old sweet music in the air

the final swan song had been sung

but strange things happen

when your young

GOODBYE LUING

I was  told a story of how some well meaning council official some years ago had suggested that the whole population of Luing could be housed in  high rise flats, it would be more economical.

 

They’re shutting us down

It will be better

Argyll and Bute sent us a letter

You’ll be better of in high rise flats

They did declare

Where we build them we do not care

Your too much trouble to us all

So pack your bags and cancel the coal

Leave the Island as quick as you can

Shove your belongings in a removal van

We’re scrapping the ferry,

So you’ve been told

Our council budget has been put on hold

We don’t care if it rains or freezes

We do what we want

And we do what we pleases

You voted us in now we want you out

Give us a bridge, did I hear you shout

Believe you me, you will feel better

Aren't you glad you got this letter

Ten storey up in the sky

I bet your still wondering why

don't ask questions or raise a fuss

Instead of a ferry you will catch a bus

Don't you worry about tomorrow

Get today over

There's been enough sorrow

Its no use crying

We've made up our minds

Were just doing this to be unkind

Put on your hat and close the door

You wont be back here anymore.

GIZ A BRIDGE

The Luing bridge, To be or not to be, that is the question

Giz a bridge is what they say

Keep it open night and day

Build it high from rock to rock

Don't shut it down at six o-clock

Keep it high up in the sky

So the yachtie's can still go by

Built of steel to stand the weather

It could go on for ever and ever

No more rushing down the road

To catch a ferry and its last load

The ferry cant last much longer

It needs replacing with something stronger

Give Luing a future don't stagnate

Just open up that iron gate

To come and go as we please

Drive down Seil with perfect ease

don't think about yourself today

Think of others along the way

You wont last forever

The future lies in your endeavor

Learn today what you need tomorrow

Look ahead, don't look back in horror

Your day will come and you'll make amends

When that day comes the rushing ends.

MAN OR MOUSE

An observation of a poor henpecked neighbor

I’m damned if I do

I’m damned if don’t

She says I will

I say I wont

Give the strength, to obey

Or she’ll make it hell

For the rest of the day

Don’t take it all lying down

Be a man and stand your ground

You wear the trousers

Or so you say

She says which ones you'll wear today

Give me the strength

And patience too

Or tomorrow you bugger you’ll stew

This is not my story

I was told what to say

Don’t let the truth get in the way

Tell it the way that it should be

Or you may find tomorrow

You'll be worse off than me

BLUING

In the days of the world gold rushes a forty-niner refers to miners of the great 1849 Californian gold rush.

Iron pyrites became known as fools gold. Pyrites is found on the Isle of Luing slate

 Luing has bling

If you look at the slate

Shining in a natural state

Cubists take note

It’s not to be

This is not gold

Its pyrites you see

                  You may look a fool                      

If you believe its gold

No use prospecting

As of days of old

Don’t quit a job

To become a miner

Take a tip from an old forty-niner

  If you have a daughter

Don’t call her Clementine

Don’t come to Luing

To work in the mine

But if you seek riches

As miners of old

All we have here

IS fools gold

MEN

All men are cre(m)ated equal

With one burning desire

To live a life

Close to hell fire

The devil will play

With their emotions

But disregard others

With equal devotions

Their fingers get burnt

On a regular basis

And they will always be wearing

One of two faces

Not to be trusted

Is the tag or the label

That some will wear proudly

If they are able

Give them an inch

And they take a mile

Don’t be fooled

It’s an ambiguous smile

THE GOOD LIFE

Such a romantic idea how can it fail, but it does for so many.

Let’s escape to the country

away from it all

let’s have a house

with real garden wall

We’ll buy a cottage

with a front and back door

It’ll save all the lifting

up to the third floor

We can buy some green wellie’s

and look at the view

and live off the land

like country folk do

It’s the good life we want

It’s what we desire

no central heating

Just a big open fire

When we get our cosy nook

with the big open fire

the pubs down the road

just beyond the church spire

There’s an old English pub

with a Bistro next door

real plastic beams

and a Spanish tile floor

At the weekend it's busy

but it is quite a pity

it's full of the people

 that we left in the city

When winter came

we were frozen to the core

living in the country

is becoming a bore

There are no pavements

there's mud and there's mire

and we've run out of wood

for the big open fire

The electrics gone off

the phones out of order

and doesn't manure

have a bad odour

Lets escape to the city

ME OWD DUSTY SHED

Me owd dusty shed

A shrine to cobwebs

Clutter everywhere

Sawdust floating in the air 

Oh I love me owd dusty shed

Me missus says I should make a bed

My second home

Is me owd dusty shed

Well one day

When I'm owd an grey

I’ll set too an have a dust

If I can just break through that crust

Well that day came

But its still the same

Try as I must

I just couldn't part with all that dust

JUST A COUNTRY BOY

There's not much hope for you me lad

Your writings poor an your spellings bad

We’ll keep you in after school

For acting like a bloody fool

Your sums are better, but your spelling worse

I really don't like it when you curse

A thousand lines will make you better

Its time your parents got a letter

When schools is over I head for the hills

And throw away all my ills

School is not for me you see

I already know my ABC

All your lessons are a pest

They don't tell me where the Ravens nest

Or tell me where the wild rose grows

Or show me a lark rise above the meadow

Teach to me of the changing seasons

Teach to me of the reasons

Teach to me of Hares and Rabbits

Teach to me of seasons habits

Then I will go to school

And I’ll learn the golden rule

The three s for me you see

Are the Rook, Raven and the Rowan tree

LUING PANTO

They tramp the boards

 In pursuit of fame

The footlight troopers

The tramps, the dames

The good, the bad

And the ugly too

Sleepy, dopey

and the Cullipool crew 

Stage door Johnny

The backstage staff

The lighting man

The crowd that laugh

All are here just for joy

Snow white
and the principle boy

They tramp the boards

As in days of yore

The fishers of laughs

The experts of score

Politically correct

Lets get it  right

Making perfect

For the opening night

The roar, of the crowd

The Rapturous applause

The jeers, cheers and the hurrahs

All are welcome come what may

Don't ‘Break a leg’, on the opening day

This was the second Panto performed by Many thanks to all

CONFUSED TOURIST

Yes they do get it wrong and argue about which Island they are actually on.

I stepped off the ferry

Are we there already

So two steps forward

And one step back

Gale force winds

Wont hold me back

How far to Cullipool

I called out

With the noise of the wind

I had to shout

Just two days more

I heard in the lull

You’ve got the wrong island

This is Mull

TH’OWD BOW BACK

Th'owd bow back,

Ligging in’t corner ut room

In’thundred yers

Its sen so many bums

Arms are naer on worn owt

Its shins av bin kicked abowt

A bit a elbo grees

An a spit an polish

It’ll lookas gud as nuw

Well its bin rubbed down

An ad a lik

O’ that nuw vanish stuff

Wot yer can get

I’t’ll sev on yon polish

It luks reet gud

Standin in yon conservatwaa

Lukin spankin nuw

Wen we get people cumin’ in

Sum wanna sit on er

But lukin ut bums is ower

Fer this owd chare

Yons worth a bit o brass

Is yon chare

Wen we get ower a undred

We don't wan’tr luk at bums

Well chare’s ar’t same

A little tale of the chair..I bought this chair more than 30 years ago along with an oak corner cupboard for the princely sum of five pounds, on removing the seat pad I found it was stuffed with two extremely large pinafores and half a pair of extremely large pink bloomers.

THE GOLDEN CHANCE

               A long abandoned fishing boat on a secluded Isle of Luing shore

The Golden Chance

Looking forlorn and gray

Abandoned forever within the bay

No more will she sail the Sound

In a sheltered cove she is bound

Her boards are loose

And her decking gone

Her captain has long since gone home

She rests in peace for evermore

On a secluded Isle of Luing shore

Long forgotten

Cast aside

To end her days bereft of pride

Oh how I wish I could be

Once again on that rolling sea

 

POOR LUING TOADS

Thousands of toads are killed on Luing roads every year, they are difficult to avoid whether on foot or in a car.

As I was walking down the road

I came upon a playful toad

I asked what did he see

These few words he told to me

Be wise my friend

But lets not pretend

I am not just any toad

      That you met upon this country road

Not wishing to be rude

And least of all considered a prude

I settled down to hear him speak

I was all ears, – for his mystique

But what he said I can’t reveal

As I was squashed by a big car wheel

A sorry tale that left me flat

An image altering squidgy type of format

Now you see said the toad

Just be careful on the road

Help to keep our pathway clear

Just slow down and change a gear

Remember page five of the highway code

It says you must not kill a toad

It doesn't really

(I just made that up)