Saving Space comic poem 481 by Angela Lansbury

 Gadgets designed for saving space

Are filling my over-filled place

I buy suitcases which expand

And scissors which fit both my hands

My problem is a cannot find

The white walking cane for the blind

The hearing aid, and my spare teeth

Are hidden somewhere underneath

I know I bought one, but forget

The secret place where it was set

To hide from burglars, book disguise

Will also hide it from my eyes

I've summer clothes and winter clothes

But in between ones, no-one knows

They're in a suitcase, on the floor

Or hiding, shy, behind the door

I need to find the bill for rates

I found the tea cups, lost the plates

I found the fork but lost the knife

Can't find tea spoons to save my life

I've fixed ten shelves onto the wall

But can't find anything at all.

I've put old leaflets in the bin

But more arrive - you just can't win.

I've folded big bags in small ones

Expanding bags - holiday fun

Old things bought last year now are missed

My shopping list - I've lost that list

What will they say when I have died?

Here's the whole life of this old dear

To sort it out will take a year

Throw it away - at least she tried.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury

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Which picture is the real me? Comic poem 480 by Angela Lansbury

 

Angela Lansbury, caricaturist.

Angela Lansbury wearing green Xmaa tree headband.

Angela Lansbury with cat puppet and fabric snake.

Happy Birthday plate at restaurant. Angela Lansbury.

Angela Lansbury celebrating with rose wine.

Angela Lansbury wearing red Toastmasters International tee-shirt.

 Which picture is the real me?

And do you see the me I see?

Pretty and young or wise and old

Careful, cautious, brash or bold?

Should I convey true me today

Or dressed up on a special day?

Can I perform in comedy

Still be taken seriously?

Should I be red and dressed for fun

Or white at night as game's begun

Then change into my dancing shoes?

It's marketing, choose gain not lose!

Should I hold up a microphone

And make sure that I stand alone

Hold a doll, a prop or puppet?

Add more photos, no, I'll stop it.

I'll add a book - do I need it?

If I show it, will you read it?

If I show it, will you buy it?

PR people say, yes, try it.

Or should I choose what makes me smile

Brings back a happy memory?

If you don't understand my choice

Nod and smile and write to ask me.

-ends-

My Oversize Shoes Have Fallen Apart comic poem number 479 by Angela Lansbury

Saved Inner Soles. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

 My outsize red shoes have fallen apart

So what went wrong with them, where do I start?

I wore them yesterday every so brave

I hoard broken shoes, now what can I save?

The lining was leather, ever so thin

Synthetic tops cracked but red was a win

Animal lovers like shoes of plastic

What can I do with tiny elastic?

When I told my husband, what did he say?

The usual phrase, 'Just throw them away!'

I don't just save the world, I think of me

All odd things are useful one rainy day

That's why broken shoes are left on the floor

Or in the spare room, hide behind the door

I'm sure they are loved by shoe gods above

One day they'll revive, loved and worn once more..

-ends-

Today 31 October 2024) I went back through my list of poems on my blog on comic poetry and looked at the title of my poems to see which ones attracted attention and how I could make the titles more intriguing, surprising and humorous. I saw the poem entitled Suitcases, changed it to suitcase security, which was alliterative and slightly emotional. My third version of the title was Suitcase Insecurity. That is also a pun on insecurity about suitcases, and suitcases in Security.

My other thought was to move the photos so that each poem is headed by a photo instead of inserting the photo half way through the poem where the photo fits the verse subject. The picture at the start is attractive and makes a better layout if the poems are collected and turned into a book.

A Fun-Filled Funeral Tea comic poem 478 by Angela Lansbury

 I do enjoy a funeral tea

So long as the folks aren't related to me

Two died well passed ninety

So there's more years for me

We collected a crowd

So no-one feels alone

Grandchildren have painted

Cute calling card stones

Painted stones on gravestone. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Besides a stone setting's a year further on

When you've almost forgotten the one who has gone

We get lost on the way to the old cemetery

But turned up on time to the funeral tea

At weddings you have to dance like a clown

But at funeral teas you may stay sitting down

I don't need port, nor coffee, nor tea

Three kinds of cake looks enough to me

I ate bagels with tuna, 

Marbled sandwich, healthy cucumber

And chocolate croissant

Some had apple under

A friend with two wives

Four children, two dogs

List names of sons' girlfriends

I need a long log 

We talked of our travels

Wines from other climes

And our future plans

Naughty childhood times

I admire a child's Lego,

Then it's time to go

Goodbye - recall names 

Of those we hardly know

What did I like the best? 

Old friends in good mood

Forget marble gravestones, 

By eating good food.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury Wednesday October 30th 2024

Happy Thoughts For Miserable People - comic poem 476 by Angela Lansbury

Before today's delights of reading and writing

We heard chants, ballads and myths of monsters fighting

Previously we relied on muddled up dreams

But now we play dozens of games on little screens

Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

We have cars, buses and trains in all directions 

We have bus stations, coach stations, railway stations

Apps tell us bus times, journey times, lots of choices 

The best routes to our favourite destinations

We can plan with long lists of packing and shopping

Click and collect or delivery to the door

The alerts buy now, only today, not stopping

Choose quotations, proverbs, motivation, and more

So what prize from this choice of goods could I wish you?

A translated recipe for a tasty dish

The finest fruit basket or pretty fruit cocktail

With perfumed bouquets of fresh flowers, or tropical fish?

\

Pastries, filled with pistacchio or ground almonds

Sprinkles decorating spirals of pink ice cream

Mocktails fizzing with bubbles, paper parasols

A sunny beach or balcony, a summer dream

A smiling, dimpled baby

A cute curly-haired child

Who loves the crowded city

Petals, perfume, nature and the wild

A very good start

A very kind heart

Be nobody's fool

At a very good school

A very good woman

A very strong man 

Money earning high interest in the bank

A beautifully big business plan

A job which you love

And challenging work

Colleagues who help

Employees who never shirk

A long-lived mother

A thoughtful lover

Modern decoration

A reliable, secure nation

Rainbows arching across the sky

A calm, blue gently undulating sea

A hand in hand bridal couple

Smiling happily, waving diamonds at me

A fashionable, colourful look

A best-selling reduced-price book

An encouraging, praise-filled friend

And a satisfying big e-bouquet of thanks at the end.

-ends-

A Happy Bedtime Poem For Adults. comic poem number 475 by Angela Lansbury

 Why do I want to write a poem

 When it's time to go to bed?

Is there nothing more important

Filling, spilling from my crammed computer-like head?

Why don't I design a garden city?

Or a ribbon party dress that's sequin pretty

Or a useful theory which explains

And cures midnight's imagined aches and pains?

Is a poem procrastinating, just a helpful way

Of sorting out a tangled, mangled busy day

Of pushing out and clearing cluttered stress

Creating dreams from a waste basket of recycled mess?

Like baking a new cake from melted fears

A sprinkling of almond smiles and iced roses of laughter

Thawing ice cubes of peppery tears 

To make thoughts of happy ever after?

Instead of writing tomorrow's vital shopping list

Imagining I'm dancing, hugged, loved, stroked and patted, petted, kissed

Hearing the hushed voices of all those I'm glad to know

Reciting, reading a crescendo of vivid colours of the rainbow

A poem's not a waste of precious ticking time

Maybe yours -  just the old ones, but never, none of mine

Mine fit me perfectly, like hand in glove

Cliches crossed out, new thoughts knitted neatly, spotlighting love

So I can sweetly sleep, dreaming of skies of perfect blue

And northern lights in arches and waves of vivid pink

My thoughts like happy pairs of bluebirds fly to you

Refreshing us like sipping shared, long, cool, coloured summer drinks.

-ends-

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Hallloween - What Does It Mean? Comic poem 474 by Angela Lansbury

 Halloween, what does it mean, Halloween

Could I be the queen  of our Halloween

Where evil things are just laughs, so it seems

Halloweens colour is orange, not green

Hollween means orange, purple and black

If you face paint then there's no going back

If autumn excitemen is what you lack

Ride ghostly trains on a ghastly track

-ends-

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