Poem Praising Buns

Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Now, with the lid off, we can see clearer. What shall I choose, the ones with the sesame topping, or the green ones? 

Singaporeans like green. They think it suggests fresh green plants or fruit.

Looking at the picture, savouring it, is like eating twice.

Three green buns. Sounds like the nursery rhyme, Three Blind Mice. 

The Story Of Six green Buns

Six green buns

Six green buns

We're all so happy when breaktime comes

Six big buns.

The order of eating is all rehearsed

We let the visitors go first

We want them all to share the fun

Five green buns.

I'm watching the numbers carefully

To be sure there's one left for me

Four green buns.

I think I ought to hand them round

I need some food so I survive

We all need food to stay alive

Three green buns

Good, someone says, Already had

I smile because I'm very glad

If they'd all gone I would be mad

Three green buns.

Three big buns.

Three big buns.

The green one is my favourite one

I ate the green one, now it's gone

Two big buns

One of them has sesame seeds

It looks delicious, it was indeed

One big bun.

No-one saw that I took too

But I must leave one for you

Hurry, friend you must be fast

Or otherwise I'll take the last ...

With two of us - I have to share

I'll share with you to show I care

No big buns.

No big buns.

But we have shared our memory

What we ate for last weekend's tea 

Green been paste, kaya, (and) sesame

Three big buns.

I'm looking forward to next weekend

Three dollars isn't a lot to spend

In Singapore eating never ends

I dream about them every day - six green buns.

-ends-

See more photos of the buns and the filling in

travelwithangelalansbury.blogspot.com

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Author, Angela Lansbury, travel writer and photographer.

Drink, Drink, Drink - water

Drink, d-rink d-r-rink, water

I'm scared to tell you what I think
On holiday give up the drink
You'll lose your passport, Dad, son, daughter
Just stick to juice, milk, tea, or water.

In strange places stay alert
To be sure that you don't get hurt
Make sure that you avoid a fight
Don't walk into a tree at night

Drink, drink, drink water
Drink, drink, drink water

You bought a bottle then ordered a magnum
Went on to hoist a jereboam
You cannot drink all that alone
Call a taxi, let's go home

The local drink is very strong
They drink it, so what could go wrong?
You do know that they don't live too long?
No wonder they sing such bad songs.

After a drink you feel alive
Except you're not allowed to drive
You sing well, tell jokes and hear laughter
But find the toilet's too far after.

You buy a round, what could go wrong?
Nothing, until the money's gone
Remember your child, what you taught her
Sit down, shut up, drink your water.

-ends
Copyright Angela Lansbury 2018
Please read the posts on my travel blog
travelwithangelalansbury
You'll find lots of irony and subtle humour. Please share links to my posts with your friends and family.

Warm Feelings About Worms

Warm Feelings About Worms
by Hazel Nutter also known as Angela Lansbury

A garden's got a million worms
Your eyes are filled with doubt
Just go and watch those little birds
Which keenly hop about

They know something which we don't know
As each bird taps its beak
They seem to be the winners
In their game of hide and seek

I'm standing at the window
And watch the daily show
Nasty worms aerate lawns
But taste good when birds swallow

I try to see the bright side
Worms do a lot of good
I try to see the light side
To birds a worm is food

I've a sandwich in my hands
I lick my lips and munch
All those birds with open beaks -
Those birds are out to lunch!
-ends-
out to lunch, idiom meaning crazy

Text Copyright Angela Lansbury 2018.
Photo by Per Harald Olsen.
My draft of the poem had the pun, but look good to a swallow. I hoped some readers would spot the pun on the birds, swallows.
I checked what swallows eat and they eat flying insects, not worms. So I changed the line to read But tast good when birds swallow 
Please share links to your favourite posts.
Read my travel posts, too. Many of them have a hidden irony, or damn with faint praise.
travelwithangelalansbury.blogger.com

Love is like a cuckoo

Love is like a cuckoo
by Hazel Nutter (aka Angela Lansbury)

Love is like a cuckoo
I love to hear it sing
But other people warn me
It's fun, it's false, it's bling

It wants to shove the others out
It wants to be the one
It does not care for others
When all is said and done

A cuckoo starts off small
But it grows big and hungry
You race about to feed it
It's ungrateful - and angry!

Cuckoo from Wikipedia.

If you suspect a cuckoo
What is it you should do?
Make sure you are not cuckoo
And the cuckoo's not with you.

-ends-
Copyright Angela Lansbury.
Photo by Per Harald Olsen.

Poem inspired by Dolly Parton's Love Is like a Butterfly.
I watched a butterfly flutter past and thought, just write a song starting  LOVE IS, making a metaphor from something you see. My first thought was bird.

I thought of names of birds, Magpie, Robin, cuckoo. Cuckoo offered the greatest opportunities for puns and metaphors. I might try Robin next.
Please share links to your favourite posts.
See my travel posts on
travelwithangelalansbury.blogger.com

Happy Days Scoot Past

Happy Days Scoot Past by Angela Lansbury

I stroll to swim, every morning
Down to the cool, soothing blue pool
I find friendly, helpful teachers
I learn from birds the 'stay calm' rule

I hear taxis to the airport
Tooting, 'Mind out!' on their hooter
A happy small girl swings, zooms round
Sings on her go nowhere scooter

The tall palm trees are waving, hey
Hello, hello, in the fresh breeze
A woodpecker climbs bark to his
Solo penthouse, in shady trees

Stay alert, look round and forwards
And rarely, carefully, look back
But mostly search for friends and food.
See what you've got, not what you lack.

A dacksund keenly sniffs the cacti
Forgetting all yesterday's hurts
Hundreds of birds join a chorus
That well-known round song: chirp, chirp, chirp!
-ends-
Copyright Angela Lansbury
Written after a swim in a pool in Singapore after seeing a girl on a scooter and woodpecker climb a coconut palm. The dog (on a lead taken for a walk)which stopped to sniff was a dachsund. Hooter rhymed with scooter. I contrasted of the impatient driver going to the airport with the girl who was happy without a destination.

You Are Shakespeare To A Baby

You may not write like Shakespeare
Nor have Picasso's eye
But your baby likes a nursery rhyme
And your soothing lullaby

You might not write like Shakespeare
That does not mean you're a fool
You can entertain a toddler
With a rhyming wash hands rule

I might not paint like Picasso
I draw a line with my mouse
I do not need lions nor sculptures
Just someone to paint my house.

Dears, the moral is quite simple
Shakespeare is fun for holidays
But bus drivers, toilet cleaners
Are what we need every day.
-ends-
Copyright Angela Lansbury
June 8 2018

The Little Summer Swimmer

The Little Summer Swimmer
by Hazel Nutter

Every morning you can see me take my early morning swim
Later in the grassy shadow, larking in my improvised gym

My family is large - half a dozen brothers and sisters
So when one of them went missing, when young, we hardly missed her

You may sit watching, glad you're human, from your carved and painted log
But I think I'm the lucky one, having been born a frog.
-ends-
2018 MAY 3RD
Hazel Nutter also known as (H) Angela Lansbury

Unrequited Love

Lost Love
by Angela Lansbury

You're just a happy memory
You found another somebody
You chose her and rejected me
Paths diverged for eternity

I had almost forgotten you
I made my life with someone new
I did what friends said I should do
Lived far away to erase you

So when you came and searched for me
My broken heart was mended, free
And I could smile, write hi, goodbye, and -
Thank you for the memory.

-ends-

Another Cockroach On The Floor and a Spider's Web Over The Bed

Another Cockroach on the Floor and a Spider Over The Bed
a lament by Angela Lansbury

I am barefoot in the bathroom
There's a cockroach on the floor
Which is worse, running or still -
Between me and the door?

If there's one thing I don't like
It's a spider on the bed
I'm sure its bad for flies
But now it hurts my head

Right now things would be better
If one of us were dead.

When I see a spider's web

Lurking empty overhead

I wonder where the spider's gone

It's bound to show, before too long

If I stay still and look around

Inspecting walls, ceiling and ground

Brooches shaped like beetles I don't like a bit
What use is a cockroach, a mosquito-ridden lake
Though I'm prepared to eat a pig-shape chocolate
And I've had round salmon-pink 'steak' from a cut-up snake

But another thing I don't like at all
Is ants on a table or desk
Although a gecko which eats them is useful
Up the wall, like me, devouring pests

We have filled the floor with insect traps
We're choking on insect spray
It's another day in the tropics
But neither they, nor I, will go away.

I read somewhere that cockroaches

Have survived a million years

Frankly a single insect, now

Is enough to tug at my fears

I can throw it through the window

Pretend I did it a favour

I didn't kill it - it might come back

Thinking I am its saviour.

-ends-

The Cockroach On The Floor

The Cockroach On The Floor
A lament by Angela Lansbury

There's a cockroach on the floor
I think it may be dead
I wish I knew what killed it
Was it something that I said?

For if it's something which I said
Then I shall not complain
Cockroach, go back and tell your friends
Please don't go there again.

I scooped it with a dustpan

It's gone but not forgotten yet

Although the damned things gone

I wish I could forget.

-ends-

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-

Song Birds

Song 

I Am With You

by Angela Lansbury

My sun face smiles, when you’re swimming

Buoys you up, so no self-harm comes

When you run, cook, eat, start slimming

Hear my sweet voice sing, say, 'Well done!'

I grew you safe, tucked in my womb

You left, one cord, like vines, entwined with me

Even when trapped in the tight tomb

Bound, like gold chains, for eternity

Each day trot out, scan round and see

Love’s endless waves, like leaves on trees

Like clear rivers, flow swift to sea

Thoughts and words shared, cost time, stay free

You travel far, plan, divert, roam

Laugh, downy ducks go paddling by

Cheered by warm thoughts of our dear home

We blue songbirds, fly through life’s sky.

-ends-

A Royal Wedding - Admiring A Princess's Fairytale Dress

A Royal Wedding - Admiring A Princess's Fairytale Dress
by Angela Lansbury

Behind the barrier, I'm pulled in my place
Keen to peep at that pretty, princess face

I smile, showing braces on my gap teeth!
But my closed-mouth crowd photo brings relief

Let's hope her dazzling dress fits the fine scene
I won't wear my faded, stained and torn jeans

Her stylish hair's swept back, pinned hat in place
I'll cut my jagged fringe, hiding my face

She should dress conventionally, more or less
Outclassing my new, dear, M & S dress

I trust that she wears matching lace beneath
Bringing a fussy, matching prince no grief

She's changed religion, nationality
One must please the public - and reach royalty

I won't copy her if she changes sex
Not the whole long list the long-left expect

Don't show crossed teeth, cross-eyes, hair in a mess
But poised, perfect, pristine, designer dress

In grand, old-world, dusted horse and carriage
A modern, TV, sub-titled, marriage

She can't smile more excitedly than me
High on chocolate, pre-runs runs, re-run fun - on TV.

-ends-
Copyright Angela Lansbury 30 March 2018
Anticipating the royal wedding of HRH Prince Harry and Megan Markle at Windsor on Saturday 2018

From left: Megan Markle and HRH Prince Harry. Photo from Mark Jones in Wikipedia.

You're So Funny

You're So Funny
by Angela Lansbury

You're so funny
You're my honey
You spend my money
But you're so funny

You're always late
I'm glad to wait
Dear Little bunny
'cos you're so funny


It's half past seven
But you're forgiven
I'm soon in heaven
'cos you're so funny

You always lose
Your keys my honey
Yet, it's you I choose
'cos you're so funny

For six days after
Tears of laughter
You're so much smarter
You're so funny

I wait a while
My eyes still runny
You made me smile
cos you're so funny

You're the one I choose
What can I lose
You cure my blues
You're so funny

You wear big hats
You keep cute cats
You're on the money
cos you're so funny.
-ends-
copyright 2018 March 27

Birthday Cake

Birthday cake made for Angela by Trevor. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Cake by Angela Lansbury

Cake, cake, let me eat cake
It's my birthday, for goodness sake
There's a limit to diets that I can take
It's iced and its nice and it's birthday cake

Let the guests in
See what their eyes say
'When can we begin?'
Don't send them away

I know it's not the best food for my health
But don't let me eat it all by myself
You've no idea the time taken to bake
The hours it took me to decorate

Go away, but I'll let you take
A tiny piece of my birthday cake
All those dieting promises I must break
Let me eat cake - and let them eat cake.
-ends-
copyright Angela Lansbury March 18 2018

The Gunman by Angela Lansbury - a synchronicity poem of karma

The Gunman

By Angela Lansbury

The tried to stop his evil thoughts
Make him recall the good they taught
But no

They called police, then his mother
She was dead. They called his brother
But no

Call his college! - it's in lockdown
They sent marksmen all over town
No luck

They called the nurse, they called a psych
They found crashed cars, a broken bike
He'd gone

They grabbed his phone, found what he said
They were appalled by what he said
The threat

His girlfriend now says she's his ex
She's terrified that she'll be next
Not yet

The windows shut, the doors are barred
What will he do? To guess not hard
Oh no!

They blamed it on his mental health
Thank God he only killed himself
He's dead.
-ends-
Copyright Angela Lansbury 2018 Feb 24

Synchcronicity is a term invented by Carl Young. From the root word chronos, clock or time. Two events synchronize or occur at the same time. Not necessarily cause and effect but appear to have something in common. Chance. 

Also see good lucky, karma, and yanfen.

(Synchronized swimming means swimmers swimming together, like a dance. They might not be swimming together but towards each other or away from each or around in a circle in a co-ordinated way.)

The pattern of each verse echoes the previous one.
The third line has two syllables. The drama.

Coming back to this poem after a year, I am puzzled where to find the synchronicity. 

The drama is the danger. The gunman is about to kill someone. Who will it be?

In the end, he succeeds. However, the danger is over. The good news that the man killed is the killer. The assailant and victim are the same person. Irony. Twist.

Useful Websites

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yuanfen

About the Author

Better Bird Song

Somebody took a wonderful video of a bird singing and put it on facebook. They asked what the bird was singing. The RSPB has a disc of birds singing. They have three types of calls. The gentle, repetitive, yeaa, yah, it's okay, it's a lovely day to today and this is my territory song. The elaborate aria, come on darling, song, like a coloratura solo piece in an opera. and scree-eeching, sharp repeating warning - Help! Danger! Run! Fly! screeching song.

Obviously the bird is singing various similar things. It said, 

BETTER BIRD SONG
'Hello, what a sunny day, 
Come along and sing and play, 
Plenty of room on my firm branch, 
I'm here, my dear, not far away. 

'Are any pretty birds out there! 
I sing the best in our tree tops. 
Those other birds are, frankly, flops. 
Are any pretty birds out there!

' What was the next trill of that song?

I don't know - start another one: 

Up here, bad cats - we're out of reach

So many tricks we both can teach

'Come and join me, top of my tree, 

The view is new, changing and free
I love sunny, clear view weather!
Here let's build a nest together, 

Come on and join me, on my tree

Come along, be strong, sing with me

"Humans - what are you looking at, I'm not calling you humans, big wingless birds just birds like me, unless, of course, you've got sandwiches and birdseed, no, never mind, back to work - 
'Hello, any pretty birds out there ...' 
I didn't catch the last bit. Irene's probably right.Thank you for the inspiration.

***
Author
Angela Lansbury
Copyright 2018 Feb 16

Funny Flowers In The Snow

It's sunny, then it's snowing
I see new flowers in the snow
The weather has confused them
I wonder if the dumb things know

They're silly, but they're pretty -
Now the sun's come out again!
I suppose they had a nice drink
From this morning's dismal rain

The whole world is a cemetery
The dinosaurs are turned to stone
But we've got cute little plastic ones
To please keen kids in every home

The pharaohs left a lot behind
Dead bodies wrapped in gold
Paintings on floors and ceilings
Great, cursed wonders to behold

The Romans with their weapons
Left their helmets, walls, old stones
Left their language, their heritage
Their glory, gravestones, meatless bones

Scary Vikings under London's buildings
Plague victims under passing trains
Madame Tussaud's, pop stars and horror
Some things best not seen again

Yes, the whole world's a cemetery
Great-grandparents buried underground
Just as well, they wouldn't like it
With our neighbour's loud jazz sounds

After my life's rollercoaster
I don't want to leave you tears
Better some jokes and laughter
To help you struggle through your muddled years

Yes, the whole world is a cemetery
Know we're all built on crumbled past
As we've been taught, life is too short
Most things, thank God, do not last

Shut your eyes, in prisons, hospitals
So in your last dark hours
In your mind paint pretty pictures
Of the stupid, happy flowers

Be mindful, in the present
Watch where you leap, step, go
But when in doubt, remember
Daft, sweet flowers in the snow.

copyright Angela Lansbury Feb 15 2018