Mother-In-Law’s Annual Visit

Just when I thought it was safe to come out of my garden shed…….!       

  

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The house has now had its final inspection,
Just back from the docs, I’ve had my injection.
So we’re all geared up now for what’s in store,
The annual visit of the mother-in-law!

Three weeks is how long she usually stays;
That’s a very long time, it’s twenty one days!
When each day can seem more like a week;
It’s an awful long time to watch how I speak.

She’s not too bad really, and at ninety years old
It’s amazing how much whiskey she is able to hold;
(And it’s my whiskey she’s drinking, the Famous Grouse,
An appropriate name when she’s in the house!).

She arrives on Monday on a budget airline,
Her broomstick’s been sold, on E-bay, online.
Far too old anyway for that form of travel,
With the wind in her hair, her perm would unravel.

Her room is all ready, the bed has been made,
It hasn’t been used since the last time she stayed;
We left it alone so that the spiders could breed;
Well she frightens me, so I’m returning the deed!

I’ve just painted the cauldron, so now she can brew
Her potions and lotions, her toad and newt stew;
It’s a specialty of hers, of which she is fond;
And that reminds me, I must look for her wand.

I do love her really, she so sweet and so kind,
The best mother-in-law that you’ll ever find;
That is, of course, while she’s a long way away,
It’s a whole different ball game when she comes to stay.

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Not long now! I’m having a panic attack;
Need calming down with a good slug of Jack.
There, I can see her now getting off the plane,
Wearing that black pointed hat once again!

TOOTG Copyright 2016-2020 01

 

How I Wish I Could Paint

Is a writer an artist? I like to think so, but every once in a while I wish for a more physical artistic skill, sometimes I just wish I could paint…

How I wish I could paint, how I wish I could capture
On canvas those sights that fill me with rapture.
Such wonders that have the power to evoke,
If I could record them with an artist’s brushstroke.

TPOTG Artist Frame 1

Oh! how I wish I could hue, from some solid rock,
A statue of a goddess, to which crowds would flock,
And marvel at my sculpture, how proud I would be,
There for all time, a reminder of me.

I wish I could turn on a potter’s wheel,
A lump of wet clay, crafting purely by feel,
Then firing that clay, creating fine pottery.
How I wish I could do that, how I wish that was me.

I wish I could shape glass held over a fire,
Using a skill of which I’d never tire.
Creating fine glassware with an artist’s touch,
I know I would like that so very much

I wish I could sit down in front of the keys
And play a piano with consummate ease.
Maybe some jazz, or maybe some blues,
Now that is an art I would certainly choose

I wish I could sing, a voice full of emotion,
Have sell out world tours, cross every ocean.
A voice to be savoured by all different ages;
And in the music press filling so many pages.

But I have been blessed with a much different skill,
No concert hall or gallery will I ever fill;
It’s a vivid imagination, at work all the time,
Composing my verse, rhyme after rhyme.

TOOTG Copyright 2016-2020 01