Dyson With Death

Old Albert was a fairground man.
He had it in his blood.
He always chose the fastest rides
to go on if he could.

But then one day he passed away
whilst whirling on the waltzer,
but if you thought that was the end,
that surmise would be false, sir.

We found a crumpled, grubby note
in Albert’s inside pocket.
A message from beyond the grave,
it was designed to shock. It….
said “When I am dead and gorn,
though I want to be cremated,
that scattering of ashes stuff
is greatly over-rated.

I don’t want chucking off a cliff
On a wet and windy day.
I’ve always been a drifter
and I’d simply blow away.

Just drop my ashes on my rug,
then clean up with my Dyson.
I just want one last Cyclone ride.
No need to ask me why, son”.

And so we did what he had asked,
And it somehow seemed to me,
That out there in the ether,
Old Albert’s voice went “WHEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeee…….!”


Fancy That!

Ah’m from Yorkshire, me,
And Ah reckon’ nowt ta Thee,
With Tha’ fancy shoes and fancy ways,
And Tha’ fancy Earl Grey Tea.
With Tha’ Fancy-Man Th’aren’t na’ better
Than Tha’ ought to be,
But whilst we’re on’t subject Lass,
Does’t Tha’ fancy me?

Easing Up

Life begins at that magical moment in time,
when you know that you’ve peaked, and the whole pantomime
of pushing and shoving you did to get on
is no longer needed, it’s over, it’s gone.
It’s that moment of freedom, you sense in your soul
That you just can’t be bothered with work’s greasy pole.

You no longer strive for promotion and medals.
Sat up in the saddle, your feet off the pedals,
you start to look over those high thorny hedges
that gave your horizons such myopic edges.
You’re still in the race, but not bothered by winning.
You can take it more slowly than at the beginning.

As others sprint past you they’re paying the price,
and you’re suddenly happy to give them advice.
You’ve nothing to prove and it somehow feels right.
For the first time in years you sleep soundly at night.

Then something remarkable happens to you.
The person you were just begins to shine through……
the mask you adopted to match your work culture.
All of a sudden that virtual vulture
of failure that always perched on your shoulder
is no longer there. You are suddenly bolder.

Unfettered by doubt you can talk common sense,
and you no longer feel you must sit on the fence.
You’re prepared to take risks, make drastic suggestions.
You’re never afraid just to ask those hard questions
that everyone else had been wanting to ask.
They’re grateful to you that you took on the task.

But the best bit by far, is that is that now you’re relaxed,
the family and friends whose patience you taxed
when driven by forces much stronger than you,
can all welcome home the soul they once knew.
At last you’re the person you knew you could be.
You can stand up and shout “  This is me!”…………“ This is ME!”


Light Relief

No need to be afraid of the dark.
Without it, how can you really feel the light?
No need to be afraid of the dark.
Under its velvet cloak, you’re safe from scrutiny, secure in silence.
No need to be afraid of the dark.
In your head, you can float in space, or on a silver sea, or just be in bed.
No need to be afraid of the dark.
Just shelter there, knowing that the light will come.


That’s the Spirit

A glass of brandy perks you up,
And whisky makes a warming cup
in coffee. And when you’ve got the gang over,
Vodka’s good (there’s not much hangover).
Whilst Crème de Menthe’s green mint entices,
Drambuie with its secret spices
makes a change from most liqueurs.
When glum, a rum your spirit stirs.
But, if on romance you should ponder,
Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.