Night Without Light. Comical Poem 846 by Angela Lansbury

 I knew the time was three a.m.

Everything was dark again

When I wake at night and everything's dark

Darker than trees in a closed park

Darker than streets without any lights

Darker than moonless, cloud-free nights

Darker than oceans of endless deep

Darker than nights of dreamless sleep

So dark that all birds and cats are asleep

Even emails and whatsapp are scared to bleep

Somewhere out there the hiding stars

Like clouds, work done, have all gone home

Leaving me here, all alone

What to wear tomorrow? I can't decide

Every useful thought has died

Even the luminous shoes are hiding

So dark I can't see a single dress

But the lack of light banishes distress

Because everything matches, what could I lack?

My perfect wardrobe's all matching black

All's black as coal in a coal-black sack

The files and socks, the silent clock

But I can tell it's 3 am

Because my black sheets call me back again

I looked for good illustrations

About my poem on black night

I like to end text with happy thoughts

You can't see pictures - they're all white.

Next day in the morning

I can see  that light is dawning

I still need to put on a light

I love the light, so bright and white

At night I'm thankful for the moon

But when the day comes I love the sun

I like the candle which I rolled

Electric light extends day's fun.

-ends-

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Extended with the last two verses on Tuesday September 1st 2026.

I rolled the candle at the Headstone event on bank holiday Monday, the previous day.

I have added it as a separate poem.

Let's Send Back The Elgin Marbles. Comical Poem 840 by Angela Lansbury.

Elgin. From Wikipedia. Public Domain.

 Let's send back the Elgin Marbles

Then I'm sure we'll stay close friends

Close down museums, use AI

Create a 3D happy end

We've got far too many statues

Tall town hall columns, big boring busts

Basements where unseen things store dust

We'll send some back, all, if we must

Put packets on a plane or train

Container ships which sail that way

As for post, packing, insurance

I'm sure the Greeks will gladly pay

If they're keen to take old marbles

They'd like enterprising old Greeks

We'll close British Greek restaurants

Done and dusted in just six weeks

Return retsina, rice in vine leaves

We can give it all back to Greece

We can employ our unemployed

As museum and shop police

After we've sorted out Athens

Let's have a look at crumbling Rome

We've too many pre-loved columns

Recycle, send broken ones home

We don't need old Roman villas

We don't need old Hadrian's wall

As for checking health and safety

I'm sure it won't comply at all

I'm sorry to chuck out pizza

The world's kids will miss their ice cream

Dad's spaghetti, Mum's prosecco 

Cappuccino, gelato scene 

I sat on Tesco's wooden bench

Thought, after Greece, and Italy

Return words and foods that are French

Rewriting menus is a wrench

Instead of croissants, we'll have crescents

Not chocolatine, chokky bun

Hazel nut cake and chestnutine

Creative and a lot of fun

Instead of big, sweet baklava

Puff pastry and British honey

Not Champagne, English sparkling wine

I'm sure we'd make lots more money

You heard surprising words I spoke

I was serious, not funny

I've given it a lot of thought

Wrote through the night, 'til it's sunny

For get inclusive, abusive past, rewrite the future

Be modern, make things bright and right

Let's just promote past English Kings

With not one foreign thing in sight

Yes, let's send back the Elgin marbles

Plan more demands, rivals, false friends

But, have we really thought this through?

Where will racist, insular thoughts end?

-ends-

For get with a gap was a typo but I liked it and left it.

My first draft read: I'm sure we'll all stay friends, but I wasn't sure all would, so I changed it to the ironic, some will all stay friends. 

I really did write this in the middle of the night. About 4.30 a.m. for an hour. So next morning at10.30 a.m. I am counting syllables. Cut a syllable by changing or chopping out a word in one line. Adding a word in the next. Work in progress. 1.20 pm, still revising.

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An Imaginary Angel Helped Tidy My House. Comical Poem 817 by Angela Lansbury.

Broom, dustpan, and waterproof apron featuring comical cats. Photo by Angela Lansbury.

Mess! I day-dreamed I had an angel

To tidy up my hopeless house

It worked whilst I dreamed at night

Like Beatrix Potter's helpful mouse

I woke and went around my house

Did a fearful quick inspection

I kicked things on the floor aside

Under their, start here, direction

After one minute, I did two

I saw there was so much to do

Told angel cleaner, 'I'll help you -

I'll just do this one small section

'While I'm at it, I'll clean the floor

And later I'll hoover some more.'

I'm impressed what lost things I find

Books sorted, could be found when blind

I'm sure you'd like to ask me

How to contact my angel friend?

And if they're free, you'll borrow one

Just read this note I'll gladly send

I did not need much reflection

On my room and task selection

But if you're tired and faint-hearted

The secret's simple. Get started

Imagine a helpful angel

Stands near, pointing the direction

Planning to return for photos,

Before and after inspection

What's heart-warming and impressive

Is how much, solo, I have done

Simply imagining we're two

'though all this work was done by one.

-ends-

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Sun and moon like me and you. Comical poem 745 by Angela Lansbury.

 Some days we are like the great sun

Up early, creative, life's fun

Some days like the moon, routine groove

Yet love to hate to love we move

Like the sun, one arrives and drives

Makes sure the plants stay alive

The other like the moon reflects

And does what the other directs.

The sun goes down, moon turns around

 Neither makes any useful sound

Sun sets, disappears, like a busy wife

Back, large and bright, brings noisy life

Moonlight dark as a tree hollow

The sun goes hiding, dark at night

Yet morning's bright light tomorrow

Sunny photos, noon time shadow

No, no, no, don't say no, nor never

Like the sun and moon we'll stay together

We'll create our own good weather

Living, leaving joy forever.

-ends-

In The Night comical poem 670 by comic and poet Angela Lansbury

When I get up in the night

I often feel that nothing's right

First my hair's tangled, and frizzy

Second, worse, I'm feeling dizzy

My husband won't allow a light

Complains and claims it wakes him up

I tripped, tipped my glass of water

Now drink, blind, from a stable cup

Tipped glass, andcup, cup and upright glass and cup. Photos by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Pains pull my shoulder, hit my hip

I've chewed dry lipstick off my lip

Secrets shared by my physios

Rest right leg, left foot, on pillows

***

When young I wanted a romance

A kind and handsome millionaire

Now that I'm old I do not care

And all I need is someone there

I had my chance, a millionaire

Short, ugly, bald, chest of white hair

He was deaf, half blind, wore a wig

His landscapred garden grew hard figs

Who cares if my hair was frizzy

Minutes after feeling dizzy

I'm glad to be back in my bed

It's best to have an empty head

***

Dawn, my hair's combed straight, not frizzy

Morning, I'm active, not dizzy

Next day, I've had a good night's sleep

Forget bad dreams I need not keep

Next day, nothing is what it seemed

Last night seems like a short, bad dream

The cup and glass are in their place

And you smile at my smiling face.

-ends-

My first version read

First of all my hair is frizzy, 

a minor mishap, which seems major to some, by day, but not night

secondly tangled is nearer the truth for me, and includes more people, although first of all is more conersational.

Pains in my shoulder and my hip

I changed this to pull my shoulder

Than I wondered if I could make an alliteration for hip

Yes hit.

Pains pull my shoulder, hit my hip

My first version read 

Forget dreams I don't wish to keep

The second revised version was

Forget bad dreams I need not keep

Forget dreams I don't wish to keep

?

The revised version is alliterative.

I changed I sometimes feel that nothing's right

to

I often feel that nothings's right

Less vague.

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Then read my other blogs on Travel and learning Spanish, and dress of the day about clothes for different activitie and altering last season's clothes to fit this season's weight and size.

Warning Signs & Sounds Of House Invasion comical poem number 600 by Angela Lansbury

They weren't properly protected

By their good health nor their paper wealth

When they left their window open

And it entered their home by stealth 

The thought it's good to breahe fresh air

But wikedness just does not care

The intruder made scary noise

First noise then silence warned of doom

In fear they tensed there's no escape

The threaat was inside their bedroom

A high sound whizzed right past their ear

Warned them that it was poised to strike

Unseen a sound they recognized

Which broke the calm of balmy night

When a sudden sound wakes you up

Even the must trusting soul knows

Tha ominous horrible whine

Of deadly landing mosuitos

They're in Thailand, your land, my land

USA, UK, an Aussie

Drops dengue and Malaria

Nobody wise loves a mossie

Warning, shut your bedroom window

Unless you've bought protective net

Before you turn on bedroom lights

Light beckons insects, don't forget

Some buy and apply repellent

Citronella, many brands, deet

Or install flyscrees on windows

Before wou and mosquitos meet

Just one can strike you anywhere

On fingers, legs, body and toes

So be prepared to fight them off

The near enemy's mosquitos.

-ends-

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This Strange World comical poem 579 by Angela Lansbury

 

I sometimes think it's very strange

The way the world has been arranged

For everything that's been arranged

Another thing is disarranged

It's good that day will follow night

But also night will follow day

For everything that's wrong turns right

Then right goes wrong or runs away

White rose in my garden. Photo by Angela Lansbury. COPYRIGHT. 

The food that's hot will soon grow cold

People are born, the young grow old

Some always laugh, whilst others scold

It's always been that way, we're told

The sun will come to grow the seeds

Rain waters trees as well as weeds

The plant does not care who it feeds

But paints patterns like pretty beads

One rose is red, another white 

Each blooms then petals blow away

Yet every day brings new delight

New perfume blows old cares away.

-ends-

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Poetry Workshop Workbook by Angela Lansbury. From Lulu.com ebook for GBP 6.95. Contains funny poems and guides to writing your own.

A Quick Poem comical poem 556 by Angela Lansbury

I do not wish

To cause you harm

But there's a ping

From our alarm

Don't discuss it

Over coffee

Let's calm down and

Then see clearly

Let's make a list

Of what to do

This half for me

That half for you

Write make it short

Let's both be quick

Write succinctly

So your thoughts stick

I  pomise I'll

Soon go away

Others have called

So I can't stay

I know you've lots

You want to say

But I've a lot

To do today.

Just tell me what

Don't tell me why

This is hello

Then it's goodbye

I've got no time

For longer rhymes

But I'll come back

Some other time.

The clock won't wait

Now here's the crunch

I did one thing

It's time for lunch

Legislation

Is changing soon

What happened to

The afternoon?

Thank goodness that

We got it right

Look at the time

Already night.

In any time

In any place

Our day look like

A hurdle race.

-ends-

What Other People Write About comical poem 543 by Angela Lansbury

What other people write about

On days when they cannot go out

Most children write of simple things

Bikes, scooters, not safe swimming rings

Of playing games and silly names

Of buses, cars and trains and planes

About goldfish, big cats, small dogs

Not giggly things like jumping frogs

Teenagers write about first love

A kiss and the blind moon above

Later they write about love lost

Of drugs and fast cars, not the cost

Whilst lying in their single bed

They dream of one they wish they'd wed.

Parents write of their baby's smiles

Not dripping taps nor laying tiles.

Old people, some like to complain

Although there's lots they should explain

Their youth which won't come back again

Claim their life's full of sun - or rain

Now, poets, what do poets write?

Of how they sat up half the night

And tried to put the world to right

Telling what other people write.

-ends-

Photo of Angela Lansbury with large pencil.

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St Patrick's Green comical poem 535 by Angela Lansbury

 St Patrick's Day the Colour green

Is on the pubs in every scene

The brightest green you've every seen

In drinks, on chairs, balloons and hair

The colours green, orange and white

Are sure to bring all great delight

Drinking by day, singing by night

And smiling all night til daylight

In some cities you see parades

New Yorker smile and wave all day

Singapore - hats given away

At pubs which wanted all to stay

Chicago turns its river green

And green drinks make the weirdest scheme

Different things in different places

Green on spectacles and faces

Ireland has a lucky shamrock day

Montserrat has a holiday

Each country celebrates its way

With bagpipes, harps, or dance all day

I see that opportunity knocks

Although I do not dye my locks

It would give all my friends a shock

I'll stick to a green tie and socks

Afterward I'll store them away

And send emails in which I say

My box of Irish goods will stay

Locked in box rooms til Patrick's Day.

Green four leaf clover sandals. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright. 

-ends-

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Sun Cycles comical poem 530 by Angela Lansbury

Halong Bay, on a sunny day, Vietnam.

Every morning I see the dawn's light

Some times hesitant, others boldly bright 

And I know life's cycle's rolling again

From flu to joy and back to pain

From mist to sun and back to rain

From glad to glum, silence to hum

From footpath to river, from stream to lane

From numb to singing, from singing to dumb

And lastly we turn from day to night

Jumping the hurdles, doing our best

Life's a relay race, as we pass each test

Sure that tomorrow will bring us daylight

We know that one day we won't go on

We've done lots of right and hid lots of wrong

Some times we were silent, others sang a song

Without us the world will still go on, and on..

Each day, somewhere, a nobody dies

But each day a cute baby opens its eyes

The sun doesn't stare, like a shrug, it's there

The sun doesn't care if you washed your hair

Our life's a pearl necklace, if we want to share it

Recording each day, so others can wear it

And after we've gone, children carry on

Like a circular train, trundling on.

-ends-

-ends-

 

Colours Collected So Cute comic poem 384 by Angela Lansbury

Purple and Ginger

Colours, colours, what shall I wear?

Glam purple dress - to match my hair

Ginger - fox with mange sheds red hair

I have mixed thoughts I'd like to share

Brown

Brown is the colour of good earth

Tarnished copper coins of low worth

Something someone left in toilets

Recall tastes of fine chocolates

 (Work in progress saved for security. More verses being added in sequence.)

Red

Bright red, blood red, ripe strawberries!

Red means good luck to the Chinese!

Red's revealed in blood orange knife

Red means death - but also means life

Orange

Dark marmalade, juicy orange

Mandarins, for Chinese New Year

Cut and make a mess everywhere

Paper towel - wish you were here

Yellow

Yellow as sun when day's begun

Yellow as sunflower, Van Gogh

Yellow butter makes you fatter

Cheese, too, today doesn't matter

Green

Green as grass and joyful spring leaves

Green as shading leaves on summer trees

Green mint tea, and healthy green tea

St Patrick's, buy rounds - hats are free!

Blue

Pale powder blue, dark navy blue

Turquoise, calm blue but growth of green

Blue as the sea, blue as the sky

I've learned why but still wonder why

Black

Jet black hair, evening wear

Little black dress, black as night

Black for mourning in the morning

Not for weddings, please get that right

Grey

Pale grey hair not bad as you think

Goes with pale blue, and with pale pink

Charcoal grey goes with all colours

Better with some than the others

Pink

Red army uniforms fade pink

Pink was for boys they used to think

Nowadays a young pink princess

Likes to wear a pretty pink dress

Indigo

Indigo, oh, no, I don't know

What colour is called indigo?

Don't buy 'khaki' nor 'indigo'

I learn, and then forget, you know

Rainbow

Rainbows arch high up in the sky

Myths and science will tell you why

Mixed up rainbows are political

Flowers and rainbows - free for all

Gold

White gold, rose gold, every gold

Price high to buy but low when sold

Does not tarnish, wear when swimming

Reward myself for my slimming

Silver

Silver turns black! What should I do?

Rub the ring, it looks good as new

A silver-plated picture frame

Wafer thin! Lacquered, looks the same

White

Wonderful white, bright as daylight

Catching a gleam  like hospital clean

Ending the stumbling in shadowy night

Fridges with food, inviting sight

Yogurt and milk and things of that ilk

Wedding dresses from parachute silk

White carpet shows foodprints which make me cross

Lace tablecloth with holes are no loss.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury Feb22 2024. You may share a line or couplet providing your mention my name as the author. That would be considered fair use when reviewing. If you wish to recall or direct somebody to the whole poem, please share with friends the links to this post and others on this blog.

Big Thread, Small Needle comic poem number 363 by Angela Lansbury

 Somewhere in far off China

There's a factory with a beadle

Whose job is to defend

The man who makes sewing needles

Those litle sewing needles

With the tiny eye

Too small for anyone to thread

God alone knows why

One day I'll write a letter

Explaining my complaint

Or maybe I'll do better

In person with poisoned paint

I'll shout and rant, in English

Make holes big enough for thread!

Chase him with sewing scissors

Until one of us is dead.

I think I'll write to someone

About the Nobel prize

It should go to someone

Who makes needles with big eyes

Maybe we'll run all day

Maybe we'll run all night

Or another twenty years

Until we prove who's right.

And I'll go down in history

As pioneering, wise

The courageous sewer

Who fought for bigger eyes.

Maybe I made a mistake

Disregard what I said

Another's worse, or equally bad

Blame the maker of the thread

But I should end positive

Sewers please take heed, all

Who should win the nobel prize

The make of the self-threading needle

Self threading needle. Photo by Angela Lansbury

It solves all the problems

It sets the world to right

I found one, lost in my sewing box

My day's now filled with delight.

-ends-

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Reflections comic poem 223 by Angela Lansbury

 

Cashew Heights Condo Swimming Pool. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Every morning starts with bright and fresh dawn 

The clock tick tocks regularly until night

Each day dozens engrossed walk and talk

One sits alone, weeps, from the fright of a fight

While dozens go out to drink and eat

Under the palm trees, parasols, pines

One stays home, enjoying deep sleep

New readers, new times, I can re-use old rhymes

Look at an old couple's son or daughter

Their faces reflect like the blue pool's water

Daytime and life take us down the same road

But we all end at a private abode

Grandchildren are passing exams in their head

Grand-dad's beyond caring, because he is dead

The young folk take taxis away from dangers

Country folk dance, with friends, not strangers.

The young have jokes, and songs and laughter

With not a thought for what comes after

Each new day there's strong sun and light, fine rain

And this cycle repeats, again and again.

 -ends.

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Your Poetry and Public Lending Right - comic poem number 205

You write and write and write and write

But did you write away your rights?

I often suffer sleepless nights

Wondering how to right my rights. 

But writers aren't left in the lurch

You simply do straightforward search

And then you find to your delight

A list of all your copyright.

To be eligible for public lending right, UK, you must be registered on the title page. No use being listed under a poem or at the start of a chapter in an anthology. For more information on how to promote your books (for fame or fortune) if you are at the Writers' Summer School in Swanwick, come to my one hour session on marketing books on Sunday.

Useful Websites

https://www.bl.uk/plr

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The Writer, Righter - Comic poem no 202

 

A writer is a wronger

Who sits up half the night

And bleary eyed or teary eyed

Helped by spellcheck, sets the whole world right

Some have a drive to be the best

First, in New York Times, or just a club

Be on TV, cruise on high seas

Launch in Michelin bars! Or BYO grub - in a  pub 

Their Facebook page gushes daily wins

"My darling publisher sent me these gorgeous roses!"

For new movies or rail crashes

They're out, with their book, striking poses

The most successful authors

Are everywhere you look

And every day, in every way

They find a way to show their book

Jealous writers stare aghast,

"That so-and-so is everywhere

My bare bikini days are past

Sequins, at dawn? And purple hair!"

She's the one with singing dogs

A mishap when her skirt fell off

And t-shirts with advertising frogs

She's making money, please don't scoff

The majority of writers

Are working at a loss

Earning less than the cleaner

No wonder they are cross

Pretending they're successful

For free books, hold out hands

Only the taxman sees their debts

I'm sure he understands

Who reads the first line of Jane Austen

Old English teacher in bifocals

While chicklit author's dancin' on the table

With the male voice choir and locals -  

Old Mildred tut-tuts, shake her head, "Jane's lost it." 

Jane retorts, "She's living in the past!?"

"That line between us, decency, she's crossed it!"

"I'm in the best seller list - at last!"

Jane repeats each reader's word of praise

And rants if there's a critic

We should do that! Why don't we?

We should be glad.  And copy. Not say, "I'm sick of it!"

Stop successful writers, ask their secret 

They're not crazy optimists, nor fools

They admit, "You win some - and you lose some."

Praise them, ask them, they'll share their rules

Whether you're writing crime

Or romance or history

Academic, advertising, poetry

Selling is not a mystery

If you write crime or romance

Look the part, and  wear the look

Know the title, publisher and price -

And show the cover of your book!

If they don't want to buy your book

But talk of their dead Dad

Then listen and sympathize

A novel plot is to be had! 

Maybe, in a year, or two

When you write about surviving bereavement

That dear, sweet soul will think of you

Wondering where her book money should be spent 

And if you are kind to everyone

One day when you are dead

Whether you die rich or poor

Your precious good books will still be read.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury (aka Hazel Nutter) July 26 Wed 2023

The author dancing on the table was the late Jane Wenham Jones in Wales at Writers' Holiday, which alas is no more, but Writers' Summer School, which inspired Writer's' Holiday, is still going strong.

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Magic Healing Words comic poem 193 b

Some writers, from six to sixty are prolific

Everything they write is neat, perfect, terrific

The rest of us just write, and write, and write

Day after day, and night after night, no end in sight

Our thoughts are loose and tangled, never pulled tight

Our words don't match our thoughts, something jars, not quite right

But we live in hope, like sinking boats wait for rope

We all search for a saying which will help us cope

That after struggling day after day, after night

With words we should rewrite - or maybe throw away!

One day, one wise phrase, will, unaided, climb outside

One magic phrase to be a source of lifelong pride

One little phrase will make our life's work justified

That magic phrase will brighten up the darkest day

Lighten up the sky and help all who come our way

Make them shake hands and say our whole life's justified

Our words have driven all troubles and cares away

And made our whole bright life on earth seem justified

Like a Mexican wave, like floodlights in a cave

Like a ripple which grows, like a candle which glows

Like a green tree which blows, like a perfumed, pink rose

Like white waves on blue sea, like two friends who agree

Like black swans on a lake, like a rising nut cake

Like red yachts with white sails, like dogs wagging long tails

Like a mother's kiss makes toddlers bruises better

Like an apology, when you have upset her

Like when a girlfriend phones, just go round and get her

Like carrying umbrellas guarantees good weather

Like you calling for tea, like you smiling at me

One thought which climbs outside, makes your life justified  

One phrase helps outside, makes hearers feel justified

One word flows outside, heals and makes all justified.

-ends-

Dog picture

From T Simpson Flickr  https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Dog_behavior#/media/File:Dog_gives_flowers_(3125106567).jpg

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Rainbow People

Some people are rainbows
Not just black and white
They keep changing colours
Not all wrong or right

A rainbow by day
Lost in black in the night

When you look at me
You see sequins and red
And orange and yellow
Inside, outside, all round my head.

Some people are green
Some people are blue
My friend adores pink
Disney Princess hue

Some people are rainbows
Not just black and white
They keep changing colours
Not all wrong nor all right

Dark at night, by day bright.
-ends-
copyright Angela Lansbury Feb 22 2020

Second Sight Re-write

At first I wrote
My poem pleased
Came back, years on
Revised with ease

The thoughts were fine
But I suspect
At least they're mine
'cos not correct

I could re-write
Read aloud, shout, speak
Stay up all night
Re-work all week 

Eight syllables in every line

Or twelve, or ten

I think that's fine

Just one more time, and then again

I start gone four

And end gone ten

I should end soon

I'm not sure when

It's six a.m. here
What should I do?
Re-writes cost time, dear
All's changed, now new.

I've written through the day

And I've written through the night

Two minutes stretched to twenty hours 

But at least it reads all right.

I know it's morning here

But it's still midnight somewhere else

I shouldn't burn the midnight oil

It's not good for my health

I wish that I had watched the clock

But even then I wouldn't stop

The mirror has a bad surprise

A pretty poem but baggy eyes

I wrote so long I nearly dropped

Even my old, tired clock had stopped

Each comma, syllable's in place -

Though I've a haggard poet's face.

-ends-

Boom boom - comic song by Angela

Boom Boom Be Doom
comic song by Angela

(Chorus)
Boom boom be, doom be doom
Doom boom me doom be doom

When you come over here
To be close to me, my dear
Your dreams will all come true
With what I've got 'inn' mind for you

(Chorus)
Boom boom be, doom be doom
Doom boom me doom be doom

Last time we didn't finish

What we hoped but didn't start

But when you disappeared

That didn't break my heart

Boom boom be, doom be doom
Doom boom me doom be doom

'Cos I knew that you'd be back

This time I'll give you what you lack

Yes, I heard what you hinted

I nearly had a heart attack!

Boom boom be, doom be doom
Doom boom me doom be doom

Keep both your eyes on me

Think what fun it would be

You'll have pendulum eyes

Your hands will hold a great surprise

Boom boom be, doom be doom
Doom boom me doom be doom

You have skills which I admire
Your looks and words set me afire
When I see you in the street
My heart will race and skip a beat

Boom boom be, doom be doom
Doom boom me doom be doom

When can we be alone?
I want to take you home!
But you live too far away
I'll make your night - you made my day

Boom boom be, doom be doom
Doom boom me doom be doom

Maybe an unknown hotel - sh!
Would suit as just as well
One thing is certain
I'll slowly draw the heavy curtain

Boom boom be, doom be doom
Doom boom me doom be doom

There's just one small thing more
You'll click-ly lock, and bolt, the door

Boom boom be, doom be doom
Doom boom me doom be doom!
-ends-
Angela Lansbury copyright 2017 Sept 30.
The sound of Amy Winehouse's beat backing, and Eartha Kit's suggestive smouldering.
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