Cows, hens, sheep and pigs

The cows in the field
Say, "Moo" and yield
Their milk for the farmer to sell.
Some is made into cheese
And, for all to please, butter and yoghurt as well.

The hens in the yard
Work very hard  -
Lay eggs for the farmer to sell.
Boiled, poached, fried,
If you really tried,
You could whip up an omelette as well.

The sheep in the field
Say, "Baa" and yield
Their wool for the farmer to sell.
It's used for knitting
And, it's only fitting,
Some is turned into suits as well.

The pigs in the sty
Say "Oink" and cry,
"It's US that the farmer will sell.
Pork, ham, bacon:
If we're not mistaken,
We'll be made into sausage as well!"

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

Natural childbirth

Being pregnant was really uplifting,
All rounded and smug "Mother Earth",
With my thoughts sort of dreamily drifting,
To the wonderful climax of birth.

When things started, I'd happily potter,
Each twinge braved with scarcely a quiver.
Once the pace speeded up and got hotter,
I'd prepare then to stand and deliver.

Well "stand"? Second thoughts maybe not.
There were plentiful options to ponder.
I could lie. I could kneel, I could squat.
I could simply continue to wander.

I could sit in a water-filled pool,
As the sun set and day became dusk.
Wafted scents in the air would be cool -
Maybe lavender, jasmine or musk.

I could crawl round upon hands and knees,
In the background, a tape of whales singing.
I could hang on a circus trapeze,
Alternately pushing and swinging.

As night deepened, a few candles glowing.
My partner there, equally stoic.
The pride in his face clearly showing,
As I coped - all serene and heroic.

But it's time now. As push comes to shove,
It hurts badly. I'm feeling quite sick.
And my wonderful "labour of love"
Has become, "Get it over with quick!"

Did I once think this one of life's pleasures?
All that beauteous stuff is for mugs.
What I want now (and not in half measures)
Are some extra-strong painkilling drugs.

All that planning no longer finds favour,
Though it probably works out for some
Who can find it a process to savour.
But not this particular mum!

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

Unwell

From somewhere I've caught a tenacious type bug.
My energy levels are those of a slug.

My nose may be blocked - or else, it's free-flowing.
Soggy tissues abound in a mountain that's growing.

My joints seem to ache. Can't get comfy at night.
Yet sometimes I rally and feel almost right.

Could I be on the mend? No: deceptive such gaps,
As it isn't that long till I once more relapse.

The virus regroups and attacks once again.
Of sneezing and snuffling am forced to complain.

I frequent local chemists' (a cure is the mission),
Hitting each one in turn to avoid their suspicion.

(Though the claims of the tablets are often pure fiction,
Am fearful they'll think I've acquired an addiction.)

Other people, it seems, have been equally "off"
With a headache, a fever, a cold or a cough.

These germs can mutate, so to none we're immune.
If you're languishing too, hope you feel better soon!

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

My not so clever computer (again)

At short breaks, it has sussed I've been looking -
As a change from my normal abode -
But why is it offering Barnsley,
Which is dull and is just up the road?

Floaty tops in the style that I favour,
Have popped up in a series of pics.
But they're 22 plus and enormous.
I'm quite small and I take a size six.

It knows I've been searching for hoodies.
There's a photo of one I'd adore.
It is grey, furry-lined, warm and cosy -
And the largest on offer's AGE FOUR.

Some "Big Brother" has clearly been watching,
He has twigged what I've thought of procuring.
But he still doesn't know all about me:
It's a notion that's so reassuring.

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

Cleaning glass decanters

My crystal wine decanters
Had gone dullish over time.
A wash in soapy water
Never could remove the grime.

Inside, a sort of whitish film
Was all that could be seen.
I tried all kinds of methods,
In a quest for sparkling clean.

I bought some strange ball bearings.
With some water these are shaken.
They are said to scour the debris,
But that claim is much mistaken.

A foam had proved successful,
On those bath tub soap/lime rings.
Sprayed on, it doesn't run straight down
But dutifully clings.

"If it works," thought I, "on scummy stuff,
Those products of ablution,
Then it ought to be quite good on glass."
It wasn't the solution...

In I squirted it. It frothed straight out.
Did not remove the tarnish.
But the wretched stuff went everywhere,
And stripped my nails of varnish.

I looked on-line for methods
That would make my glass less drab.
And one idea had some appeal -
A denture cleaning tab.

Three Steradents I duly crushed,
(When whole, they didn't fit.)
Would the end result be worth it?
No, they didn't help one bit.

So I reached for Flash - a liquid.
It is green and not that thick.
And, swirled round the inner surface,
This product did the trick!

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

My not so clever computer

Welcome to new viewers in Nigeria

My computer's very clever
With those "pop-up" ads it shows.
These feature skirts and dresses
And I wonder how it knows
All my favourite styles and colours
For dresses, tops and skirts.
I rarely place and order,
But a quick look never hurts...

Has it tracked my on-line browsing?
Does it follow what I've bought?
Seems it knows my taste in music,
And can read my every thought.
BUT I look up local weather...
Local eateries... so why,
When I clearly live in Sheffield,
Does it think I live in Rye?

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.

Nouns, adjectives and verbs

For all children trying to get to grips with basic parts of speech...

A clown is a noun,
London Town is a noun.
Nouns are people and places and things.
Anna's gown is a noun,
Elsa's crown is a noun,
So are toys, cars, spaghetti and kings.

Adjectives tell
How nouns feel, how they smell,
How they taste, how they sound, how they look.
A rice grain is small.
A mountain is tall.
What shape is a coin - or a book?

Salty chips, nice sweet pies,
Red berries, blue eyes.
Prickly hedgehogs and melted ice cream.
Cheesy old socks,
Chiming grandfather clocks,
Fluffy ducks and a scary bad dream.

Verbs - what nouns do.
Horses gallop. Cows moo.
Bottle tops untwist and twist.
Babies cry. People talk.
Rabbits run, hop and walk.
And some things just simply exist.

Adverbs are fun,
Say how things are done
And spotting them's easy - just try.
The song was sung sweetly...
The gift is wrapped neatly.
They usually end in "LY".

(Note. Adverbs also describe adjectives and other adverbs. 'Very' is an adverb. Whilst the vast majority end with 'LY', words such as 'rather' and 'somewhat' are also adverbs.)

For details of my other books - Britannia's Glory and James the Third - please see the blog/post of each, both dated October 2024.