"PolyPants" hide butt cracks

The products made by Polycell
I'd gladly recommend.
As a DIY fanatic
They have long since been my friend.

My favourite is their "One Fill",
A kind of whipped up mousse.
It's not messy, covers great big holes,
Is very easy-use.

The company is soon to launch
A filla spray that's quicker,
And - already on the market -
Is their "hide the bum crack" knicker.

A survey's proved that bottoms,
When displayed, are in bad taste.
So these "PolyPants" will fit you
Most securely round the waist.

Polycell would rid the world
Of all unsightly gaps,
And thus devised these garments,
Both for women and for chaps.

Low slung jeans and trousers
Can reveal those backside nicks.
Now all you will be seeing
Are iconic "done right" ticks.

What refinements could be added
By developmental geeks?
There's a product known as "Damp Seal",
Which can cope with minor leaks...

(Hello to The Maldives!)

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

The "no need for a garden" BBQ is invented

My husband likes the summer,
Some days, the sun might show,
But he dreads that one suggestion,
Which makes him think, "Please, no!"

The hint of decent weather
Prompts an, "I know what we'll do.
We'll dig the paper plates out -
And we'll have a barbecue!"

The very mention of that word
Can make him start to quake.
I can see his brain cogs working
On excuses we might make.

There's a sick friend we must visit?
And she lives up in Dundee?
But our would-be hosts are cunning,
And already checked we're free.

He's averse to blackened sausages,
("Inside they are not cooked"),
And those "odd things stuck on skewers"
Which have yet to get him hooked.

He dislikes "trendy" salads,
(And every type of dressing),
Plus any sort of mixture,
Whose contents have you guessing.

But we stand there with brave faces,
Attempting not to choke,
As we find ourselves down-wind of all that
"Is it lit yet?" smoke...

Juggle plates and forks and napkins...
Live in fear of something spilling...
A man will sport an apron,
For it's he who does the grilling.

People try not to look hungry,
As at last the charcoal's "caught",
But the food will take much longer
Than anybody thought.

There's a jug of something "with a kick",
(It's very often pink),
And the glasses' rims are frosted,
(To disguise that which we drink?)

Those without a garden
Couldn't offer these delights,
But someone had the good idea
Of setting this to rights.

So if you have a balcony,
Or even just a wall,
The invention will make certain
That you don't miss out at all.

Two sausages, two burgers
Can be fitted on its tray,
So the fun of the occasion
Could be made to last all day.


If you've enjoyed this, or any of the blogs,
please don't forget about our Facebook page
(link on right) and please, most importantly,
share with others.
Thank you for your interest and support
M x

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

Another true "facts of life" tale

We took both the children to Hardwick.
Young Ella was then not quite three.
We had packed up a wonderful picnic,
Which we ate sitting under a tree.

For a while, she'd been asking us questions,
Which we'd answered - quite "matter of fact".
She had noted her brother's "appendage",
That gadget which all ladies lacked.

She was mulling the issue of gender,
She wanted it clear in her head,
And thus, as we packed up our basket,
Came the moment that parents must dread.

Our tree now was sheltering locals:
It had started to rain and was chilly.
"Are you a man?" she asked one chap,
And then added, "Have you got a willy?"

There was one of those "stunned silence" moments,

When the whole of the world seems to freeze.

I asked, "Does your puppy like apple?"

And I thought, "Get me out of here please!"

(And hello to viewers in Panama!)

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

What can have happened to Tiddles?

Come on in, Maud darling.
Don't stand outside my dear.
I'm sorry I'm distracted,
That I'm really not quite "here".

Last week, our dearest Tiddles
Was lost - we searched all round -
And my hopes have quite diminished
That he'll turn up safe and sound.

I know he made you sneeze a bit,
That kitties aren't your "scene",
But still, I hope you'll understand
How frantic I have been.

He was so cute and playful,
His antics always cheered.
It's hard to think the creature
Has, quite simply, disappeared.

Remember when you last called round?
That wool of yours he chased!
Then wouldn't leave your legs alone,
(Did you get your tights replaced?)

He really seemed to like you -
Such a friendly little chap -
He wouldn't mean to jolt your arm...
Spill coffee in your lap.

Forgive me dear - I ramble on!
I'll take your coat. Come through!
I like your fetching outfit -
That fur collar - is it new?


If you've enjoyed this, or any of the blogs,
please don't forget about our Facebook page
(link on right) and please, most importantly,
share with others.
Thank you for your interest and support
M x

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

The world of Freddie

I've found another "'pider" web.
You'll have to come and see.
I'll prod this rotten apple
That has fallen from the tree.

This soil looks very tempting -
I'll put some in my pocket.
The dishwasher has failed to work.
(It's switched off at the socket).

There's a "t'actor", there's a digger,
There's a "nee-naw" zooming by.
There's a leaf upon the pavement,
There's a plane up in the sky.

There's cat poo in the rockery,
A daisy on the lawn,
                                         There's the cover of a brand new book
                                         Just asking to be torn.

With a handful of baked bean juice,
My hair I will anoint.
They'll try to wipe it off again,
Have sadly missed the point.

And every time I pass it,
My little hands just itch
To push and pull and twiddle
That intriguing dimmer switch.

I experiment with yoghurt,
Which I've tipped out of the dish,
And wonder what would happen
If I fed some to the fish?

I've learnt (because I've tried it)
That I cannot climb a wall.
But the stairs would be so easy
If they'd let me in the hall.

The world is all excitment,
Mysterious and new.
I need to check out everything,
Because I'm only two.


If you've enjoyed this, or any of the blogs,
please don't forget about our Facebook page
(link on right) and please, most importantly,
share with others.
Thank you for your interest and support
M x

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

Lady aged 106 finds true love - at last

Our heroine's Edwardian,
From times that now seem weird.
The Great War's yet to happen.
TV's not yet appeared.

We reach the Swinging Sixties
When the Beatles' songs were sung.
Now, by anybody's standards,
The lady's far from young.

She never did get married,
Thought romance she'd never know.
She went into a care home;
Cupid loaded up his bow....

She met a man called Gavin:
He's the love now of her life,
But she clearly isn't planning
To become her sweetheart's wife.

She knows that he adores her,
Will be there through thick and thin,
But has figured that it's better
To simply live in sin.

So to single thirty-somethings,
The advice must be "sit tight":
If you're patient and wait long enough
You'll find your "Mr Right".

(Though, to follow Marj's pattern,
It is only fair to warn:
Look in prams and buggies,
For he's only just been born!)

Marjorie Hemmerde (106) and Gavin Crawford (73) met and fell in love in a Melbourne care home.

(And a welcome to viewers in Bulgaria and Switzerland)

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

Women in underwear run through Basel

How to best promote our shop?
A bright idea then flickers:
"Get women running through the streets,
In just their bras and knickers.

The prize will be a voucher
To exchange for trendy clothes,
For which women will do anything,
As everybody knows."

The competition's organized,
The city dash is staged,
Then enter certain feminists
All "PC" and enraged.

"It's primitive. It's sexist,"
Is some local MP's speech.
(Has she never worn bikinis
On a sunny Spanish beach?

Does she lack a sense of humour?
Does she lack a sense of fun?)
We should try it here in Sheffield:
At sixty-two, I'd run!

And Basel should be seeking now
To right "unequal" wrongs,
And hold another contest
For its menfolk, wearing thongs.

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