Comic Poems And Songs Are Serious Work (Comic poem 124) by Angela Lansbury

 

I'm trying to do some serious work (10 syllables)

I'm writing a comic poem (8 syllables)

I need to put my talents to good use (10 syllables) 

And not be universe owing (8 syllables)

I promised I'd write a poem each day (10 syllables)

I admit it looks like lying (8 syllables)

Not want of pay made me give up (10)

But no readers. I stopped trying (6)

Compare a poem to a bank account (10)

One might be earning you nothing (8)

But one's potential is a huge amount (10)

Which one is it? I'm still guessing (8)

I could be filing tax, or cook dinner (10)

Cooking's tiring, tax makes me faint (8)

By not writing, I'm a fraud, a sinner (10)

Wasting time, watching drying paint (8)

What's a real job? A doctor or a nurse (10)

 Replies depend on who you ask (8)

What's hard work? Telling jokes? Driving a hearse? 910)

We learn skills, practise, do a task (8)

Today I planned shopping - I made a list (10)

My excuse was it was raining (8)

My train and song spotting skills were not missed (10)

I'm retired, no-one's complaining (8)

I'm asked by life coaches and speech makers (10)

Why are you wasting precious time? (8)

Who are givers, takers, or waste makers? (10)

Artists, where do you draw the line? (8)

Would God say, I gave you another day (10)

What did you do? Threw it away? (8)

Write of your homeland, if you're a native (10)

Write of travels, be creative (8)

Youngsters fail, pretend to be amateurs (10)

Time and doubts pass, then words don't hurt (8)

Authors are word traders, entrepreneurs (10)

Now I'm old, so I'm an expert (8)

I wrote, sang my song, for baby, Ava, (10)

She's wide eyed, pays with a big smile (8)

"Mama, dada! Grandma! Hello - bye-bye!" (10)

I starred, centre stage, life's worthwhile! (8)

-ends-

Written Wednesday evening 30th March 2022.

Revised Thursday morning 31st March 2022.

Copyright Anela Lansbury

Community of the Retiree (Comic Poem 123) by Angela Lansbury

I don't live in a grand commune

But in a small community

Worldwide writers seeking readers

Facebook and blogs bring them to me

That little baby which I carried

Is now a father, newly-married

They hate advice; avoid dangers

So, instead I'll advise strangers

The smallest unit's when pregnant

Mother cum baby, you'll agree?

But suddenly when you give birth

Two turns into a harassed three

What can you do, what can you say

This Gran's on Zoom, too far away

Life's lonely in a silent room

Toothless smiles with waves make my day

Yes, your nearest help's your neighbours

I'm sure you've heard of this before

It's easy to make friends nearby

Start knocking on your neighbours' doors

Then when you're running from a fire

Or hear shrill alarm bells ringing

You can shout warnings as you pass

Even if you're bad at singing

I gave Chinese friends oranges

To celebrate Chinese New Year

Their food and fruit fed me a month

Of fruitless, lazy, living here

My recipe is, all grow fruit

Veggies and flowers in old boots

I find new use for broken pots, 

Save landfill from trash can what-nots 

We need to save small precious seeds

And think of Kiev, under siege

You never know what we might need

Nurture green talent in our liege

'Dig for victory', nuclear war

Britain's World Wars, and Singapore

Tsunami, hurricane, who knows

What weather, war or Covid blows

Then we'll be grateful, you will see

Each linked to our community

To prove we care, prepared to share

Mushrooms and fruits grown in old boots

Do you know Basil? I have thyme

To grow whatever suits this clime

Not green-fingered? Don't despair, a

Rampant as rabbits aloe vera

I've trouble keeping things alive

But ants, cockroaches, fruit flies thrive

The Chinese, on starvation bred

Eat crispy insects, live or dead

Eat oysters live, Maoris drink blood

Moths eat my clothes, everything's food

Ignore rules saying don't, or should

When starving, foreign food tastes good

So pray, whatever you believe

God, send good neighbours in my need

I gave them mushrooms, may they show

With tomato or potato

Thank you, it's free? I pounce with glee!

It's pale or stale? That's fine by me

Smile, water plants is what I do

Give thanks, advice, send words to you

If you've no fruit, send calories

In tins, plastic, bottles, wink, wink

You know, when pushed, I won't say no

Tap water, wine - 'reviving' drink

Think about it, and we'll agree

I'll give to you, you give to me

They can't tax friendship, sharing's free

Joyful retired community.

-ends- 

Green beer for St Patrick's Day.

Author's notes:

Dig for victory was a WW2 government slogan in the UK during rationing.

The Lost and Broken Umbrella Comic Poem 122 by Angela Lansbury

 Red, bent umbrella. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

I've lost my broken umbrella

I'm sure you are wondering why

I have lost my broken umbrella

I put it down wet, left it up to dry

Did I leave it in the restaurant?

Or leave it on the train?

The trouble with lost umbrellas is

You never find them again

I admit it was twisted and broken

I admit, like me, it was old and bent

I admit it didn't add to my status

But I still wonder where it went

But today I found an umbrella

Broken and stained and stuck

It was half on the grass, under a bush

Covered in leaves and muck

I can see why the owner left it

It's a nuisance to wash, as you see

Nobody would ever want it

Nobody else but me

Lost and broken umbrellas

Are everywhere on the ground

I lost one and I found one

Broken umbrellas, not round, but go round. 

-ends-