“Can I ask you a question?”
“You just did.”
“What?”
“Now you’ve asked me two.”
“What?”
“Now it’s three.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Questions, and that’s four of them now.”
“Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
A Question of Sport
Ode To Miss Mary Bennet
Miss Mary Bennet, life’s middle child:
Dour, unremarked and, by choosing, unstyled.
Watching your sisters play whist in their pairs
Consigned to their shadows, resigned to your prayers.
Oh, to be Jane! The most prized of them all
Who turned every head at the Netherfield Ball.
Or Lizzy, who routs senseless suitors through wit
Delighting your father more than he’d admit.
Would you be like Kitty who follows the crowd?
Or Lydia, brash and unsuitably loud?
Alas, those sweet psalms you impart by the dozen
Did fail in the end to secure you a cousin
And having entailed the estate to a son
The Bennets have lost and the Collins have won.
And so, dearest Mary, were God so to judge
Will your role be that of a poor mother’s drudge?
Or is your intended more than a mere dream
Who’s destined to save you as part of His scheme?
Now, blow out the candle and softly to bed
Let sleep chase such worriment out of your head.
And judge not too harshly, as you’re wont to do
For, one day all eyes may be turned toward you.
Root Cause
Noisy nests and early dawns
Hedgehogs digging up the lawns.
Whirring hives drip zooming bees
Syrup tapped from maple trees.
Newborns heading out to graze
Bike seats needing to be raised.
Buds appearing on a vine
Washing hanging on the line.
Little League and sowing hay
Storing skis and skates away.
Walking with a bit of swing
Raise the sash because it’s spring!
Discontented Creator
I sent myself an email
It ended up in Junk.
At last, some honest feedback
On all the bunk I’ve thunk.
St Valentine’s Day Mascara
I gave my heart to you, my love
One February night
Invoking all the saints above
I prayed you’d hold it tight.
And after we had made romance
For, that’s what I still call it,
You gave me such a loving glance
Then made off with my wallet.
The next day you were seen at lunch
With someone we both know.
Now, looking back, I have a hunch
My best friend’s your new beau.
According to my Visa bill
You both then saw a play
A great night out is greater still
If one needs never pay.
Faced with costly overruns
From two hearts hewn from stone,
On my part, not to be outdone
I hacked into your phone.
And so, my love, for us it ends
As does your victory lap
For, you’ve just messaged all your friends
To say you’ve got the clap.
Roll, Play
My love, you’re a Tahitian girl
That dances on the sand
Who charms the breeze with every twirl
And gesture of her hand.
My love, you’re absinthe through the veins
Each time my lips are kissed
A cruel elixir bringing pain
Which no man can resist.
My love, to me you are a song
Whose chorus fills the air
Inviting men to sing along
Allaying their despair.
My love, your powdered skin’s as soft
As petals on a rose
Its luring scent designed to waft
With each layer you expose.
Alas! Another’s at your door
I thank you for your art.
In truth, our love’s a game, no more
And you have played your part.
Pyramid Schemer
Of Cleopatra it was said
Her loves were so prolific,
Recording all their antics led
To six new hieroglyphics.
Prickly Heat
My love is like a red red rose…
One Scottish bard chose to propose.
My ex was like a Yucca plant
And on the yeuch, I’m adamant.
Stalk Options
My stalker’s released more nude photos of me.”
“How’s your hair in them?”
“Fabulous. I’d just had it done.”
“Let’s have a look.”
Laverne slid her phone across the table.
“You owe him one,” I agreed, swiping through a considerable collection of images. “Maybe you should get him something.”
“Like what?”
“Valentine’s Day is coming up.”
“What makes you think he’s into Valentine’s Day?”
“Call it a hunch.”
“But I wouldn’t know what to get him.”
“Does he have someone special in his life?”
“Not since he killed all the members of his church group, no.”
“Any hobbies?”
“Skulking amongst the shadows?”
“Besides that.”
“Photography, I suppose.”
“Then why not get him some lens wipes?”
“I’m sure we can do better than lens wipes,” Laverne frowned.
“Let’s keep going then… would it be fair to describe him as outdoorsy?”
“Yes! And now that I think of it, he could do with a decent winter coat,” she suddenly brightened.
“My neighbours are in a cult if you’re looking for something with a hood.”
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
“Did I mention it’s detachable?”
“It’s just… I don’t want to cause offence.”
“To someone who’s photographing you through your fence,” I felt obliged to remind her.
“I see where you’re coming from.”
“Didn’t he once write that on a CookieGram?”
“Right before I reversed over him in the driveway.”
“Putting all of that to one side, what were you doing running naked through the forest at 3am?”
“The dog had let the cat out again,” Laverne chuckled. “They’re worse than the kids, those two. I should have gotten a fish tank. Anyway, enough about me; what’s new with you?”
“I’ve decided I want to give back to society.”
“Oh, God…”
“Now, I know what you’re thinking but this time I’m serious. I’m going to make 2026 my Year of Philanthropy.”
“Well, you’re on your own then because no one’s getting any of my money,” Laverne sniffed.
“I don’t need money; what I need is a project.”
“Why not just join a gym like everyone else?”
“Because until just now I wasn’t aware that I needed to.”
“I’m just thinking back to the incident in the park.”
“That dog should have been leashed.”
“You wrestled it for a Tootsie Roll.”
“Which I’d bought.”
“Which you’d dropped.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, there’s a recession on,” I pointed out, dignity still intact.
“Okay. Forget I even mentioned it.”
“Easier said than done.”
“It doesn’t even matter because you’re nice on the inside and that’s what counts. When I was growing up there was a fat family on our street and they were really nice too.”
“I want their names. All of them.”
“Their dog was called Cupcake, I remember that much.”
“Keep going.”
“My point is, they were just like everyone else.”
“Just not worth knowing personally,” I addressed the elephant in the room.
“John, you have the rear molars of a hyena. I’ve watched you crush femurs like they were toothpicks.”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
“No, it isn’t. I’ve seen cleaner kills on Animal Planet.”
“Speaking of which, did you catch it on Monday? It was about these sharks that sleep. I think they were in Mexico. I have never, ever heard of sharks sleeping before.”
“That’s because they don’t,” I was informed.
“Sharks don’t sleep?”
“Nope.”
“Then what were these ones doing?”
“During ratings week they whack a few in the head to make them appear cute and cuddly.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m afraid not,” Laverne shook her head in dismay.
“But that’s barbaric.”
“So is seeing a camera-woman being bitten in half during a live feed. The only thing those sharks were sleeping off was a Grade 3 concussion.”
“Is that what happens on Love Island?”
“Totally different.”
“How so?”
“They’re all brain-damaged to begin with.”
“How do you know so much about concussed sharks?” I was curious.
“I wanted to be a marine biologist, but back then women couldn’t join the Marines,” Laverne sighed.
“Why not become a Navy SEAL?”
“I hate seafood.”
Hide and Seek
My sweet, when we say love is blind
It’s simply Nature being kind
For, were our flaws known in advance
You wouldn’t get a second glance
Mr Ormsby At Large 