Saturday, June 28, 2008

Le Nom de Plume (de ma Tante)

She was quite a troubled young belle,
Who hailed from the city of Nîmes,
And I was a gay ne’er-do-well,
Far away from my home town of Sneem.

This bittersweet mademoiselle
Appeared in my life like a dream.
She told me her life was sheer hell,
Which I thought was a little extreme.

“Sue, c’est le nom qu’on m’appelle,”
She lied, as we sat by the stream.
And despite her untruths I still fell
For the mis’rable Sue de Nîmes.
Writers Group homework - names or nicknames

Monday, June 2, 2008


To the Cathedral church of St. Canice,
I wandered with Quarrelsome Janice.
To the top of the tower we ascended,
Where the views of the city were splendid.
But Quarrelsome Janice railed strenuously
‘Bout problems she raised disingenuously,
And soon she became quite hysterical,
Using language distinctly unclerical.
Now the foot of the tower of St. Canice’s
Is where the poor Quarrelsome Janice is.

Another Arts reception

It’s another Arts reception,
Clinking glasses red and white.
Another fraudulent deception
Full of navel-gazing shite.

Give me taties plain and filling,
Give me cabbage thick and green,
For this critic isn’t willing
To splash out for haut-cuisine.

Pubs with small alcoves

Pubs with small alcoves
And dimly lit corners
Should put up bright signs
Which specifically warn us
That finding the toilet
May be somewhat tricky
For people like me
Who have eyesight that’s dicky.