Excuse, Excuse comic poem 233 by Angela Lansbury

Angela Lansbury in swimsuit with umbrella. Photo by Trevor Sharot. Copyright.

 Look, I can't go swimming today

The sky is looking too hazy

Pollution might damage my lungs

The worry will drive me crazy

My husband's looking suspicious

Sys, 'Your haze is a distraction

The swim will bring more benefits

Getting fit is the attraction

I sigh. I don't think he's right

I think I should think about it

Haze danger's a newsworthy fright

If they report, I don't doubt it

I'll dress and take one step outside

Just sniff and see the way things go

If I have trouble with breathing

Then surely I'll instantly know

In swimsuit outside one minute

The same as starting any task

Forget doubts. You must begin it

Leave old excuses in the past

Every action has a downside

Just think about the later good

I'll just step out and look about

Don't you agree with me, I should?

Alas I've lost a lot of time

Writing you this comic poem

Instead of going, gave advice

On things you're already knowing

Now my chance is nearly over

My hour for swimming almost past

But at least we have a poem

This good mind exercise will last.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury 2023

You can quote a couplet or once verse providing you attribute to the author and add a link back to my cmplete poem and blog. Thanks.

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Successfully Over-Packing And Unpacking A Suitcase comic poem 232 by Angela Lansbury

Suitcase and key ring. Photo by Angela Lansbury.

Were you better at this than me?

Yes, years ago I had no clue

Now I've packing PhD

I pack all socks inside the shoes

 

A suitcase like a bedroom drawer

Take out one item, then you find

It shuts the way it did before

Swimsuit or night dress left behind?

No, everything is in its place

I'm short of space so I confess

Just one thing more, I weigh my case

I wear a third reversible dress

For our return I have a list

What might be lost? Now I can see

An image, to fret about what's missed

Only one shoe. one sock, dear me

I find lost shoes under the bed

Under pillows a nightdress

A picture in my phone and head

Will haunt long flights, nightmare distress

A kind air hostess took my jacket

Wrapped round duty free gifts I'd bought

Because I had no room to pack it

Have I learned all the things I taught?

Yes, I count bags at every stage

Arrive with bags, caps, coats in threes!

But one thing makes the others rage

Because I've lost the suitcase keys!

-ends-

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The Swimming Frog, comic poem no 231 by Angela Lansbury

How does a small frog learn to swim?

He swims along every season

I wish that I could be like him

Never need a swimming lesson

I doggy paddle round the pool

A frog looks like swimming is play

'though big-eyed like a little fool

He swims tirelessly all the day

The frog is not ashamed or proud

He swims about croaking out loud

Even when small, not well-endowed 

Elbows and kicks through a big crowd

But frogs are in their pool all day

Nothing to do but eat, mate, swim

Sunbathe, no thought of bills to pay

Nothing to lose, nothing to win

Instead of fearing I might drown

I ought to simply laugh and shrug 

Put my foot down, push off the ground

And treat myself to a big hug.

After six widths I have grown bored

I'll walk back home for company

When I'm alone I feel ignored

Forget frogs' lives, let me be me

Yes, trees are trees, and frogs are frogs

And cats are cats and dogs are dogs

And you are you and I am me

That's how life is and it should be.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury Tues 26 Sept 2023

My draft ended

And that's the way the world should be

Smile Please! comic poem 230 by Angela Lansbury

😀😀😀😀💋💋

 What is a smile

It says I'm a friend

Bringing hostility

To an end

It makes you feel good

Makes sadness end

If you're not in the mood

You have to pretend

Deter hostility

When you are harassed

The Japanese smile

When bereaved or embarrassed

What is a smile

Not like a grin

Which is too much

And says I win

What is a smile

It says I'm okay

Glad to see you

You made my day

What is a smile

It ends a fight

I told you so

You see, I'm right!

What is a smile

It says hello

Also goodbye

Glad to see you go.

What is a smile

For a group photo

This could be seen

By someone I know

What is a smile

It lifts the lips

A quick facelift

Distracts from hips

What is a smile

It's not a lie

But Cheshire cat goodwill 

A cheap bequest left after you die.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury 2O23

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What is life? comic poem 229 by Angela Lansbury.

 

Cut coconut. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

Life's sometimes like a playing card

Like a coconut, it seems hard

Sometimes it seems it is broken

Most times you must cut it open

Look inside, ask what does it hide?

It makes a child's eyes open wide

Don't hesitate or over think

Just enjoy the lovely fresh drink.

-ends-

Life Is A Metaphor, comic poem 228

My friend, please use a metaphor

Or say 'like ...', that's a simile

A metaphor or similar

Comparisons - the same to me

Describe life with a metaphor

It may sound new yet deja view

Tell new friends that we met before

Repeat a lie and it sounds true

Some say life's like a theatre

Some say life's like a big, grand stage

Life's like a book, an empty slate

Life starts like a new, pristine page

Birthday flowers, Singapore. Photo by Angela Lansury

What is baby's new life like?

A train, a bike, a climb, or hike

A river, stream, or waterfall

It's like them all, but yet unlike

You can say life's like a journey

It has many stops and stations

Life's a world which keeps on turning

Life's a team of many nations

Life is like a box of chocolate

A wrapped parcel, a birthday gift

A tall mountain, gushing fountain

Challenging peak, not aimless drift

Life's a swift river, a slow road

A grand palace or small abode

A deck of cards, jigsaw puzzle

A knitting pattern, or muddle

Life is a merry metaphor

Life's a vision, open window

Life's a closing then opened door

Life's seeds breed oasks, grow what you sow

Life has a start, a welcome start

But you can't see around each bend

But we applaud a eulogy

Pretend a satisfying end

Life's like a drunk who is unsure 

Life is a simple metaphor

Life is like a crochet pattern

Like a sea with boats, beach and shore

Life's like a happy, hearty meal

Life's like a long and quenching drink

Life is what flowers make you feel

Life's what animals make you think.

Flowers in Hayes Conference Centre, for Writers' Summer School, Swanwick, Derbyshire England, photo by Angela Lansbury.

Life's like your chosen metophor

Life's like a prose piece or poem

Life's like a novel, or a frame

It leads back where you were before.

You choose and use your metaphor

Your dictionary of words in reach

You picture what you want to teach

For sales, for marketing, a speech.

To impress use a metaphor

To describe any endeavor

Grab one of the common cliches

Metaphors make you sound clever.

-ends-

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Sleepless, Sleepy, Slept, comic poem 227 by Angela Lansbury

Four poster bed in the Old Bridge Hotel. Photo by Angela Lansbury. copyright.

Old proverbs tell you what is true

Eternal truths kick me and you

Like kind mother, helpful teacher

God's stern rules, persistent preacher

 

You can't burn candles at both ends

Stayed up late? You must make amends

Sleep tight! Alas I woke at night

I hope oversleep puts clocks right

Do I need eight, full hours, or more?

Upright in planes, or on the floor?

I should be grateful I'm in bed

But thoughts fight battles in my head

No borrower nor lender be

The person who I cheat's me.

Last night I used my time awake

Then shut my eyes, ignored day break

Will I be turned back at heaven

Because I slept to eleven?

No matter, I passed one life's test

I made sure I got eight hours' rest.

-ends-

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The Bridge from night to day, comic poem 226

I dreamed I suffered mild distress

At a hotel breakfast wearing my night dress

 Daylight blows guilty nonsense far away

So I'm glad to greet and start my innocent day

Down by a big cool blue swimming pool

Are teachers from the tiny tots morning school

Teachers blow away small adult troubles

Busy blowing giant rainbow bubbles

Delighted children race around

As elusive bubbles drift down to the ground

A happy chance lets me glance

As burst bubbles weave a broken rainbow dance

I trot off merrily on my way

But there's another joy today

On the other side of the pool

Is another cute kiddie school

The kids line up in height mismatched

To play a joyful game of throw and don't catch

To take their turn to throw a ball

To bounce against - or miss - the wall

Inside they go to learn much more

To fold torn paper into four

Such keen and anxious little faces

Learning how to tie their tiny laces

The tots don't have a single care

They wear bright ribbons in their hair

At lunch time proudly show what they now know

The joy of tying an untidy big ribbon bow

The lesson is to be like them

And let my child mind fill again

With simple tasks I'll learn somehow

In the oft repeated stopped watch now.

I've lots of time to fill my mind

With joy and leave my cares behind

Now I'm retired, my life's all play

Each day starts one long, wasted holiday

I must let happy visions fill my mind

And leave all niggles far behind

I can fill day's long, languid hours

Day-dreaming of fairytale ivory towers

I step outdoors to a fairtale scene

Of palm trees framing a sea of green

Across the red bridge, where tall palm trees show red

Lovely visions of  small orange flowers fill my little, empty head.

-ends-

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Coconuts make you nuts, 225

Coconuts. Photo from Wikipedia.

Down by the cool blue swimming pool

The water's cool and I am cool

The trees provide a welcome shade

After my swim, sit in the glade

The unformed guide soon comes out

His job is walk about and shout

Not like a bride, more like a groom

With a brisk broom sweeping in each room

Maybe, 'cause he's always working

He sees me swim,  thinks I'm shirking

It's exercise, I tell no lies

Yes, a 'work out' must mean working

Coconuts under palms at Cashew Heights condominium Singapore. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

 On trees coconuts are yellow

The Guard warns me, they'll soon mellow

Watch out, too late when they turn brown

For one by one they'll fall down

You never should sit underneath

Because one day you'll come to grief

I am too old to die, and wise

To accidents of any size

I am wary, sit here, sit there

This place, that place, this chair, that chair

My bed is where I'd like to die

That is why I'm coconut shy.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury September 14th 2023.

To help any foreign language speakers, the last line is a pun on a Coconut Shy, which is a game at a fairground where you throw a ball to hit a coconut off its support and win it.

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Clothes for all weathers and seasons, comic poem 224 by Angela Lansbury

 I like sunshine but not too hot

My men are skiers. They like snow

So long as I have - museums

And shops! I don't care where I go

Some folks have favourite seasons

They think the others are treason

'We holiday in July.'  'Why?'

With nutters don't try to reason.

Some people like sun, sea and beach

Summer means to eat a fresh peach

Hiking, or towels out, at dawn

My dark blinds are still firmly drawn

Angela Lansbury with red umbrella. Photo by Trevor Sharot.

Some like dancing in puddles in rain

At least rain will water the garden again

If it saves me effort I won't complain

If it showers an hour, that's enough rain

I've parasols in most colours

And umbrellas in the others

But go out without, look about

One dropped, I've taken, it's broken

I buy lace beach shoes, white ski boots

Boxes of too high heels, gold, cute

But wear wide Crocs, spring, summer, Fall

My hundreds of shoes are too small

Angela Lansbury's clothes. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

I should get my act together

Not keep buying for all weather

But my strange all seasons wardrobe

Is my great all seasons treasure.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury September 2023

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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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Which animal would you like to be? comic poem 222 by Angela Lansbury

Angela Lansbury with puppet and soft toy.

Say which animal would you like to be?

I think that's a very silly question

For an adult, even a five-year-old

It's enough to give you indigestion

It's a subtle and rather sneaky way

To find out what you're thinking and feeling

Hoping that you will give yourself away

All answers incriminate, revealing

Another reason's that I could and will

Chenge my evasive, indecisive mind

I'd frame my answer in a nonsense way

But learn to hide thoughts which you cannot find

I'd choose the most suitable animal

To tell the world what I want them to hear

To prove that I'm totally reliable

And ask the questioner, what of you, dear?

I could pick a popular dog or a cat

Cats are independent, find their own food

They are very nice, except to the mice

They are popular, and can soothe your mood

I've no pets, I can't choose an animal

But I used to keep cute tropical fish

But that doesn't mean I'd want to be one

Live just three years, end up as dinner's dish

What lives to seventy, a crocodile

And like sharks it has a lot of white teeth

It has nasty bites, a deceptive smile

No, it's a vicious creature underneath

Insects are too small to get a world view

You could fly high like a singing black bird

But a diet of worms is not for me

Though birds like eating worms, so I've heard

I could be a parrot, or a bird which sings

i think I would fail the sing in tune test

Would I willingly exchange my arms for wings?

Are birds best? I would like to feather my nest

I would love to be a laughing monkey

They look like me and have a lot of fun

They swing through the trees with amazing ease

If they lived longer, I'd like to be one

But, I've decided, a giant tortoise

It lives a hundred years or longer

It carries its house, totally safe

It's calm than me, slower, and stronger

Imagine one day you could go to shop

Check what sleeps on the sand and swims in the sea

Pick your preferred creature, offer to swap

Someone should ask, would it want to be me?

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury 2023. Please share links to your favourite posts.

Loving Son's Phone Call comic poem 221 by Angela Lansbury

I carry my phone all the time

I might get an important call

Good news will make me feel so fine

I welcome all, well, almost all

Sunday I was feeling lonely

When I was home, bored and alone

So I was glad someone called me

Was that some good friend on the phone?

Some callers I don't understand

Don't know my name, sex, where I am

They ask me questions in Chinese

No friend, it's just another scam

They want to sell me things for stairs

When I live in a bungalow

Or sell me pet food, I've no pets

I really think they ought to know

A voice I know - why, it's my son!

I am so pleased that I am wanted

How lovely, kind of him to call

He does not take me for granted

How glad I am when my son calls

First checks if I am welĺ or ill

He'll help me, if I pay his bill

Last, urgently, Mum, write your will.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury 2023.

You are welcome to quote one line or one verse of this poem providing you include my name as the author and link back to my blog and the whole poem. Thanks.

If you want me to write on any subject, let me know.

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Food Addiction comic poem 220 by Angela Lansbury

 Interlude on Food 

Don’t tell me that eating food’s an addiction

You will add to today’s friction - and fiction

I eat to live and I live to eat -

But the internet says give up chocolate and meat

Why am I so obsessed with food?

Because food does me good and improves my mood

When I am late or in a bad state

I can cheer myself up with a big box of chocolate

I like two big portions of roast potato

Can I compensate with one sundried tomato?

I love spuds baked, mashed, chipped or sauté 

Give me potatoes, any way, every day

Alas, the weighing machine’s news is sad

It tells me the truth and I am not glad

That ice cream and chocolates will bring me more sorrow

If I leave my diet, again, ‘til tomorrow.

-ends-

Angela Lansbury copyright Saturday September 9th 2023

Travel Unravelled, comic poem 218 Miss Hoarding Is Boarding comic poem 219

I am Miss Hoarding, anxiously boarding

I'm wearing three reversible dresses

I've multiple pockets, hand bags, tote handbags

Three packing lists, just adding more stresses

 I interrogate  those I sit beside

'How was your meal, your drink?' I mean no harm

'Would you like my shellfish? I'll try your dish

May I save your bread?' It works like a charm

I like to show young flyers what to do

Like the button which lifts the seat arm rest

Let's just get a comb or toothbrush or two

A pen, playing cards, and then we can rest

I save for a sunny or rainy day

I squirrel old, torn, plastic bags away

A plastic bag could make you a rain hat

I bet you have never thought about that

No one should travel without spare buttons

I always carry two needles, ten threads

I have a pillow, lots of luggage keys

If I had a lorry I'd take spare beds

I have uses for an old pillowcase

I've had it so long, don't know where it's gone

I do have a place for everything

The problem is nothing is in its place

-ends-

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Different Tastes - Why Doesn't Someone Tell Them! comic poem 217 by Angela Lansbury

 

When I was a small child, I liked milk and water

As a wary teen I met yogurt, strong coffee, 

My taste for drinking sweet wines started much later

Loved sweets and chocolate, lost a tooth filling in toffee

Now I love to photograph, tall, fine, green palm trees

But I can't understand why a good God made snakes

Some people like small insects, not high seas, high trees

Fight dengue with insect spreay, you must give or take

Some people tramp the moors, the great cloudy outdoors

Others dance slow in a candle-lit, dim, disco

Brits like a soft carpet, Italians tiled floors

Don't like who you know? Then, no problem. Off you go!

Creative types like lived in houses; called,  "A mess!"

Some stiff types like jackets with buttons and stiff zips

Hoarders are happily slopping around, half-dressed

Tiaras, pink ribbons, sealed packs of hair clips   

Some like old jeans, torn, stained with paint, faded

Some like sequins, satins, smart high heels and glitter

Some like bow ties, dress codes, some shrug and are jaded

Some like smoth, soft silk, others think clothes don't matter 

Some like green and red salad, healthy juice and fruit

Some would welcome my meals, others beeline to you

Some go barefoot, some love long, leather, kinky boots

Perplexed? Stand in the middle, unfazed, muddle through.

Sometimes it won't matter what you and I can say

With adults it's less stress to not make any fuss

Some unique people prefer to go their own way

Some are grateful for direction. Kids copy us!

My friend, the lawyer, her words echo in my head

Well-paid lawyers work researching all night and day

I'll always remember what she cynically said.

She warned, 'I don't give advice - unless people pay!'

-ends- 

Garden City. Trees with sparkling lights. Scotts Road, Singapore. Photo by Angela Lansbury.

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My two friends had an argument, comic poem 216 by Angela Lansbury

Screaming from Wikipedia. Own Work of CozyThisOne.

My two friends had an argument

Both sent to me some texts unsent

Plus ambiguous texts they sent

Which didn't say quite what they meant

'A' said, 'Your friend 'B' wished me dead

My friend 'B' said, 'Not what I said 

It's just some nonsense in her head

- But now I do wish she were dead!'

A said, 'This group if full of snakes

I keep quiet, avoid heartbreak,'

All night her words kept me awake

I try my best, do what it takes

I try my best to sympathise

It's not that anyone tells lies

It's just the world seen through their eyes

Is circling round and upside down

I told her, 'Yes, best keep away

From those who might spoil your today

And try to push the past away

Find future, good thoughts, and words to say ...'

I told my friend 'A', ''B' is ill

She really doesn't wish you ill

But like a sick dog bites a vet

Once she is well, she will forget

'I'm glad to be your go-between

Most are your friends, no-one is mean

But naturally oneself comes first

So everyone else comes off worst

'I tell you what you ought to do

Instead of threatening to sue

And saying what they'd better not do

Say what their friendship means to you

'Always shower them with praise

Say speaking to them lights your days

Soon you will find, instead of ill

Their words to you full of goodwill.

'Pretend that they are all your friends

Although it's just means to an end

You're smart enough to lie, pretend

Convince them that you're their friend!'

I'm sure nexxt week they'll both be friends

And find some way to make amends

Happened before. Again - you'll see

The only one upset is me.

 -ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury 2023 September 7th

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Worse Troubles! Comic poem 215 by Angela Lansbury

When the swimming pool water is cold

It's better to remember

Worst troubles at sea

It's colder in snow in December

I look out of my spotted window

And see that it is dismally raining

I could be out there, soaking, hiking

In a pak-a mac, so stop complaining

When you are suffering an itch

Its better to recall

The problems of the very rich

Who fear to lose it all

When your snack's too salty

Or maybe it's too sweet

Give it to the poor insects

The dear things don't care what they eat

Insect in toilet bowl. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

You might have constipation

A dead insect's in the toilet bowl

Flushed, it's half gone

Half''s a bit better than whole

Could it have been a cricket?

At first I thought a gecko

Alive, No, dead. I didn't know

Whatever, friends, it had to go!

When you have lost a loving friend

Think of the good things flippantly said

Just think, would you be happier

If both of you were dead?

If you don't like this poem

I'll put things right somehow

Put you out of your misery

By ending it all (the verse) now.

What good have I done today

To make your day and mine worthwhile?

A waste of time, of yours and mine?

No. It's always worthwhile to smile.

-ends- 

Wednesday 6th September 2023. Please share links to your favourite posts. You can quote the last verse in its entirety but make sue to include my name and a link to the whole poem. Thanks.

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Ten Fingers And Toes Comic poem 214 by Angela Lansbury

 

Why do I have ten fingers?

Why do I have ten toes?

So do you, friend, so do you!

But why? Nobody knows!

Who don't we have a dozen?

I was asked by a small, weird cousin ...

Then we could divide them all by four

And the decimal system would be no more!

Japanese tea sets, have five cups

I used to wonder why

Until today I looked at my hand

Now I understand, at least I try

What if your fingers or toes are six?

That happens to a rare few

That gives them a different mix

Is maths easier for them to do, than for me and you?

What if we had eight fingers?

That would be quite strange

But we'd think that was normal

Everyuthing would be rearranged

Why are there severn days a week?

It's been that way for years

We've tried a four day week, I've retired

A lifelong weekend, no Monday tears

Somebody made a month 28 days

Skipped twenty nine, thirty, thirty one

Then they had to add a leap year

I could have told them it was wrong!

Back to the question of fingers and toes

Some start counting from one, with thumbs

But thumbs up is rude in some cultures

Starting small with pinkie is how it's done

Back to the question of having ten toes

Why we have ten nobody knows

When we all meet God, some little sod

Will ask, 'Why do we have ten toes?'

-ends-

The Forgotten Poem - Comic poem 213 by Angela Lansbury

 I wish I could remember

What I thought when I was swimming

I'll have to create it

Just start at the beginning

People often ask you

'What was I thinking?'

I reply, 'I haven't a clue

I thought you were blindly drinking.'

How many great thoughts wandered off!

To sail through clouds unseen!

We all have lost a million thoughts

I guess you know what I mean.

-ends-

Photos

1 Cashew Heights condo swimming pool, Singapore. Photo by Angela Lansbury.

2 The Hayes Conference Cetnre, Derbyshire, setting for the annual Writers' Summer School, UK. Photo by Angela Lansbury.

3 Angela Lansbury with magnifying glass. 

All copyright.

An Amusing Statue In A Bavarian Idyll In Germany - comic poem 212 by Angela Lansbury

Is that you, statue?

Who are you? Are you blue?

Standing stiff, standing still

Always watching the same hill?

I was impressed when I heard

A sculptor visualised an angel

But a portrait painter, maybe

Sees inside as well

In a block of rock

On an empty page

With hammer, pencil in your hand

You populate your stage

Unmoving figues have their place

Recording a moment in time

While kinetics create a moving face

More like yours and mine.

A work of art has pinned a pose

You walk around it, see some more

Thank goodness I'm a living thing

And not stuck to the floor.

-ends-

 

Members of my extended family visited a hotel in the Austrian alps and took this amusing photo.

Statue of bull doing exercise with a rope. Photo credit. Sharot family. Copyright.

Lartor Resort, Bavaria Germany.

You can book through Agoda.

Useful Websites

https://www.agoda.com/en-gb/lartor-resort/hotel/unterammergau-de.html?

The Beautiful Broom, comic poem 211 by Angela Lansbury

 I'm here to praise the humble broom

Which cleans the floor in every room

The sturdy broom which you can trust

To move around dead dirt, dire dust

To leave the foor and shelves quite clean

To make your home gleaming, pristine

To make the old place look like new

It seems to know just what to do

It does the job, thorough, and yet

Why does it suffer such neglect?

We decorate the walking stick

With handles carved to lure the quick

That parasol displays its paint

Each broom grows dirty, pale and faint

Finally, bristles twisted, thin

It's thrown aside, beside the bin

The broom removes dead spiders' webs

It finds odd shoes under the beds

Under sofas, roll tins of drink

Last night's party? We nod and wink

Let's carve each broom's handle, paint it

Give it honour, give it glory

Each battered broom keeps us healthy

Knows our secrets, tells no story.

-ends-

I have other blogs on travel and dress.

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