What If: comical poem by Angela Lansbury number 723

When you are tired your mind plays tricks

Tormented by broke things to fix

Thoughts run, stumble, in a hurry

Drag a big file labelled worry

 

What if I went to bed tonight

Unwashed, but never woke up?

What if there were small but deep holes

Inside every glass and tea cup?

Who would make the breakfast for us

Do washing up? Should I prepare? 

Just my husband. Why should I care?

Not my problem. I won't be there.

What if there were poisons

In all chocolate, sweets and cakes?

A tragedy for you and me

Like fake sugar. But we'd lose weight.

What if the day after I died

None of my great poems were read?

I would never know and grieve

I'd be dead, at peace, empty head

But my dear mother always said

Don't cry for strangers far away

Don't make yourself unhappy, dear

Leave yesterday, enjoy today

Think: what if I were praised? Famous?

What if I made a million smile!

Then writing this one ten a.m.

Would all have been really worthwhile

What if I found my dried up pen

Years on, and read this all again

And said, gosh, was this really mine?

I was already clever then!

What happens later, no-one knows

I'll leave behind such pretty clothes

Satins and silk, ribbons and bows

A garden with a perfumed rose

So I shall write about delight

Before I quench the bedside light

Rest in the darkness of kind night

Help my eyes close in soft repose.

-ends-

I changed the line

I was rather clever back then

to read

I was already clever then.

I changed daylight to bedside light. 

I changed 

Let my eyes close in sweet repose

to read

Help my eyes close in sweet repose.

About Angela Lansbury - my books of poetry

include  Poetry Pets & Pests

Poetry Workbook

 My latest book, Embarrassing Moments, is on Amazon, at a bargain price of well under ten pounds

My books are on Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk, and Lulu.com

Take a look. You might like to buy one for yourself or a friend. 

See my other blogs on travel, wine and dine and dress of the day. Please share links to your favourite blogs and posts.

Please follow me and share links to your favourite poems.

Busy Dizzy Days comical poem 651 by Angela Lansbury

First I make a shopping list

Keen that nothing should be missed

On my way to do the shopping

In a hurry, can't be stopping

 First I pass the lush green grass

Pause. Put my nose near a red rose

Stop to take a photograph

Smile at new neighbours, wave, joke, laugh

Window shopping, what is new?

In the shops, read each label

Find a bargain, if I'm able

Patiently, join a long queue

Back at home, I'm a winner

Arrived just in time for dinner

But I'm asked, 'What went wrong?

Why did you take so long?'

Tramp Davies wrote, 'What is life if full of care

You have no time to stand and stare?'

That's the thought of shameless, aimless young

I'm old, less time, more to be done

Rush. Make sure each day's got lots of value in it

I do not want to waste a precious minute

Then when I stare, I sort useful thoughts

Of what I should do with bargains I've bought

Is there anything I might be needing?

Does the garden need seeds or weeding?

Do I need cover to protect my knees?

Should I plant herbs, which attract birds and bees?

Do I want to dig dirty potatoes?

Better stick to quick growing green and red tomatoes

Photograph, sunlight makes trees dappled -

'Let's go out and pick some ripe apples!'

Save leftover food for another day

Turn the excess apples into puree

Brief stop for snacking on what I like most

Cheese and butter melting on hot seed toast.

Cheese and toast with coffee. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

***

Write, then. go out to enjoy today, 

Because tomorrow it might rain

Make another short list, start again

I'm busy writing, happy and don't need to explain.

-ends-

I changed 

then at last join a long queue 

to 

Patiently join a long queue.

The first version explains why I am late in the next verse.

The second version contrasts my dawdling with my husband's impatience to start dinner.

The toast (with mushrooms) was, in fact, breakfast. My picture shows toast with cheese for elevenses.

Please share links to your favourite posts.

. But my husband says, don't keep changing it. The flow is better with the first version.

Please share links to your favourite poems.

Precious Perfume comical poem 591 by Angela Lansbury

 What are the words describing smell?

Perfume, aroma, smell, poo, stink 

 I can tell I'll describe each well

Just sniff a flower, need not think

Roses in pale pink and drak pink. Photo by Angela Lansburyl Copyright.

I love herbs, I cut rosemary

Mint grows green along the border

The catalogues are temping me

Not dried herbs, new plants to order

But better still, describe each rose

The way you sniff, breathe in and out

The colour, pink, soothes, wrinkling nose

It's sweet, and deep. Fridge food brings doubt

Is this milk off? It's sour, not right

There's something bad about this smell

I ought to get my money back

If they refuse, I'm going to fight!

That house is musty, smells of mould

With spider's webs, rubbish, decay

It's dusty, dirty, very old

Don't buy it. Let's go away

Why's the baby loudly crying?\

It smells odd, so no-one's happy

It s just fed well, it's not dying

It smiles, smells sweet, a new nappy

At airports skip happily round

Testers, try musk, whisky, honey

I breathe in - exhilarating!

And so it should be, for that money

My friend has bought a case of smells

It seems a waste of money

I could create the smae thing from

My fridge, mustard, garlic, honey

With spray I can pefume my room

With lavender, rose or lemon

Freshly cooked bread is welcoming

Smells and tastes of earthly heaven.

-ends-

When buying roses for our front garden, I did not use a catalogue. I went to a garden centre to sniff the roses. I did not want to buy roses which look good with no aroma. Some catalogues will tell you which roses have an aroma. However, if you have the opportunity, its's better to buy one which you know smells great.

Why Does The Garden Grow? Comical poem 581 by Angela Lansbury

 Tell us, why does the garden grow

I though I knew, but now I know

To make sure the retired don't shirk

Give us, retired, gardeners work

Some turn to crochet, knitting, beads

While others race to pull out weeks

We keenly watch for cuttings, seeds

Give sweet pea plants the drink each needs

Although we're told all bad things pass

We stick up signs, Keep off the grass

We build wind chimes to make kids laugh

Then sternly warn, stay on the path

When winter's gone, or summer's through

Find new essential things to do

Like cleaning moss from plants and stairs

And do repairs to musical chairs

A fallen fence, a crumbling wall

Busy God cannot do it all

He sends the rain but then will moan

'Just do the rest, folks - on your own!'

We check if posted vines survive

And if not thrive, just stay alive

To tell the truth, I don't tell lies

Most plants I see are a surprise

And though our old apple tree's rotten

We find forget-me-nots forgotten

See treats for eyes, my soul, your nose

Wild, keenly climbing, short-lived rose.

Grasshopper on orange rose, Hatch End, London, England. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

-ends-

Please share links to your favourite poems in the posts on my blogs.

First Rose comical poem 567 by Angela Lansbury

 

Pink rose in May 2025. Photo by Angela Lansbury.

Guess what joy in my garden grows

In May, yet a first summer rose

When others buds will wait til June

One rose thinks that May's not too soon

This big rose, framed in green, bright pink

It's seen the sun, and had a drink

It's bold, attracts me like a wink

It makes me stop and look and think

Nearby I see small, lower weeds

Struggling up boldly, from wild seeds

Proclaim the gard'ner's lack of deeds

Dandelion soup, when in dire needs

My eye returns to that sole rose

Which grows where almost no-one goes

The back garden, where a fox shows

Slugs stop me wearing open toes 

April's cut roses wilt in vases

Whilst outside a real rose is born

A rose whose sent attracts my nose

But look, don't touch, for it has thorns

Today there could be sun or rain

Proudly proclaim, 'Summer, again!'

I'll smile all day, the whole world knows

What I saw first, that first, pink rose.

-ends- 

Please share links to your favourite poems. Poetry books by Angela Lansbury are on Amazon and Lulu.com

Dressed For Four Funerals And The Body In The Coffin comic poems 388 and 389

 

I went to four funeral teas

The living, not the dead, to see

The only good thing I could think

Not say, at least not you, and wasn't me.

Find the right cemetery

The children's  house - what could go wrong

For the album you must write a story

From their life, or the title of a song

The first was double funeral prayers 

For A mother and a son

Three roads which all had the same name

The other son: So glad you came

The second one was cremation

They spoke of his good deeds

Magician's broke a magic wand

Hotel cream tea, forget me not seeds

The third for a jolly, old friend

As students, we met so long ago

From childne I'm now glad to know

I'm glad to hear his voiee on video

The fourth had died overseas

I was asked to read a prayer

Although I'd never met her

Family were glad I was there

And now what do I read

That mourners up in Hull

Made jewellery from wrong ashes

Kissed empty coffins as well

Maybe we should go back

To open coffins like Victorians

And photograph us beside them

To glory them in memorium

Cremation means no floating germs

No headstones, instead plant a rose or apple tree

When my time comes I won't be here

Nor near, to worry what you do with me

Royals have a rule when they pack

Always travel with an outfit that's black

The rest are colours when going away

No funerals, wear colours today

If I wear both black and white

I/m ready for both day and night

Am I in the perfect dress

What dress code? I'm in my best

In Eastern lands white's not allowed

White's for the dead dressed in a shroud

Unless told otherwise, I think

You wear black, not luminous pink

While we're all here together

Celebrate what comes our way

Maybe that's why I'm wasting your money

Spending on my cake saying happy birthday.

-ends-

PS Numbering's Wrong comic poem 89 by Angela Lansbury

My numbering system has gone wrong

I wonder what I've done, what's gone

I wonder why it took so long

To notice a missing poem

And right the numbering system

And simply write another one.

-ends-

Written 2024 June 11th Tuesday.

Useful Websites

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-13190037/widow-husbands-ashes-jewellery-police-funeral-home-freezer.html

Please share links to your favourite poems in this comic poetry blog.

Photo of Angela in black and white. Photo by Trevor Sharot

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

Please share links to you favourite posts with friends.

What I saw today - flowers

What I Saw Today - Flowers

Song by Angela

08052017

Today I saw an angry man

But then I saw a pretty girl

I saw a broken bracelet

But then I saw a glowing pearl

I picked a perfect rose

And I threw away dead flowers

Wasted ten minutes writing this

But still have fifteen hours

Forget about the lonely days

And think of your best kiss

I should think of holidays I’ve had

Forget the ones I’ve missed

Take action to achieve my dreams

Breathe deep, enjoy the rest

Add up the ticks in every day

And then you’ll pass life’s test.

-ends-

version 2

Today I heard an angry man

My mirror showed a pretty girl

I fell and broke my best bracelet

But knelt and grabbed one glowing pearl

I picked a perfect perfumed rose

I threw out old, faded flowers

Wasted ten minutes writing this

But still can fill fifteen more hours

Forget about the lonely days

An optimist thinks love and kiss

I'll think of holidays I’ve had

Forget the ones which I have missed

Take action to achieve my dreams

Breathe deeply and enjoy the rest

Add up the ticks in every day

And then you’ll win and pass life’s test.

-ends-

Hi God, a poem by Angela Lansbury on Does God Exist In Gardens

Hi God by Angela Lansbury

 "Does God exist in gardens, Gran? 

Looks like the devil's out there, too 

If you like bites from mosquitos 

Sorry to say I'm not with you!" 

 "Let's look around our garden, child 

Then you'll be sure there is a God "

Invite your friend to I take a look

 Under a log; bulbs, worms in sod ..."

 I pick a rose, scratched by a thorn I dodge, we see a honey bee 

Pick blackberries, dress stained and torn 

A bee, or wasp, starts chasing me ... 

 We try to hide behind a tree

 

I move a plant pot, ear wig, louse 

It doesn't even take a snake 

Slugs drive us back into the house

 I try to smile and not to sigh 

"It's sunny, phone the family 

Try to be good, don't make a fuss." 

 "When we die what eats you and me?" 

 When health and safety call on us 

They check for mice, mosquitos, rats 

Bugs live outside, must look for holes

 Roaches invade kitchens of flats

 I sometimes think I should desist

 I would not want to lose a friend 

An agnostic or atheist 

Can see both sides and round life's bend 

 If firm belief secures one's fate 

Grandchild's debate makes blood run cold 

It's time to choose, not quite too late 

Don't lose faith now, 

Gran - you're too old! 

 My rose is pretty, its perfume 

Would make believers of the blind 

Yes, pinks, and blues brighten my room 

But bee's buzz, greenfly, change my mind. 

 Angela Lansbury. Copyright Saturday, 6 May 2017. 

Author's note Pinks are the colour of roses but also the name of another kind of flower. 

I started writing a poem about the mixed blessings of a garden. I changed the poem to one in which an atheist or agnostic grandma debates with a child. I added another verse and changed it again to the worried child trying to secure a place in Heaven for grandma.

About the author

Angela Lansbury B A Hons ACG ALB PM5 EH5 DL5 VC5 
The Author of several books, including  Etiquette For Every Occasion. Wedding Speeches & Toasts. How to be the Best Man. Quick Quotations. Who Said What When.

Blogs travelwithangelalansbury.blogspot.com

dressofthedayangela.blogspot.com

translateforfun.blogspot.com

Braddell Heights Advanced Toastmasters Speakers Club Vice President Public Relations (VPPR), Previous President

Join BHA 1st Wednesday 7pm and 3rd Saturday 2 pm Singapore time. 

Vice President Public Relations (VP PR) of Tampines Changkat Advanced;

Secretary of weekly online Singapore International Dynamic Toastmasters Speakers’ Club;

Member and past president of Harrovians toastmasters club, UK; Past member of HOD Toastmasters, London. Past member in Singapore of: Toastmasters Club of Singapore (TCS); Tiarel; and Senja Cashew.

More details from Toastmasters International find a club.

Regular attendee at annual Swanwick Writers’ School, England.

Regular attendee at annual Writers’ Holiday, Wales.

Contributor to poetry readings, and after tea courses on: Speaking On Radio To Promote Books; and Plots And Character.

Winner of many club and area speaking contests in the UK and Singapore.

Language advisor to Empire Toastmasters club in Indonesia.

Language and speech workshops in Singapore.

Speaker on radio and TV in England, Scotland, the USA, and Australia.

Compiler of a school course on public speaking for teachers to prepare pupils for school open days with attending ceremonies before government ministers, Singapore.

Former member of Harrow Writers’ Circle, London, and two writing groups in Singapore.

Angela is on Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, Pinterest, Twitter. She would be delighted to link up with new friends.

 Please share links to your favourite posts.

Dreaming Of A Childhood Garden

White house rose garden.

 

Last night I dreamed my life again Night dreams should sort and right day's wrong Your hopes and wishes, fogs and fears Muddled bad cleared, like a good song I wiped the haze and rainy daze Dreamt of flowers, back in London Like my childhood, sunlit, unfazed Walking in an English garden Curtains let in light to wake you Green grass, green oaks, and a blue sky Cool dew, long paths lead to new views Red rose bushes grow up eye high Yesterday I saw butterflies Changi airport, an oasis You think you're reborn, no-one dies Papers reveal Zika's crises Far from leaves and far from green grass Our plane jolts down in neon Hong Kong Skyscrapers soothe changing colours Air-conditioned, what could go wrong? Too many crowds, too much litter Live fish in tanks, dead on our plate There no fresh fruit, too much sugar We've flown, we're tired, it's getting late That's why I dreamed my life again Night dreams should sort out right from wrong Like rose scents which last one hour I'm a curled and coloured flower I wake refreshed to start my day I'm small but see friends in a while So all past cares have flown away I'm small but lift lives with my smile. Copyright Angela Lansbury September 1st 2016. Written after a trip from Singapore to Hong Kong.

Flying Home See 'Si' Sea

Flying Home (Singapore to London)

by Angela Lansbury

See - the sky’s blue; the sunshine’s gold

The clouds look soft, fluffy, bright white.

Watched comic films, dramas, warm, coldI

Yet slept sound, upright, half the night

Cross new Europe, Poland, not Spain

“Si!” Languages ‘oui’ understand

Back to face bills, take pills again -

Rain waters rose, pines, waved wheat land

Water glasses clink like di’monds

Omelette, like perfume, wafts through air

Smilers wheel breakfast, offer choice

Shut eyes, dream, rest - stretch - soon be there!

Houses like toys, stand in neat rows

Cute cars race past puffed tiny trains

Drop down! Below, maybe hail, snows

Who cares - clunk, bump - we’re home again!

Angela Lansbury

May 2016

Poet’s notes: 

Inspired by a Facebook post enthusing about flying back to London.

I wrote the poem about flying over Spain, then a member of my family said that you don't fly over France or Spain from Singapore but over Poland.

Puns on sea and si, oui and we.

I changed roses to rose to save a syllable, which leaves the word rose ambiguous between a noun and the past tense of a verb, no longer meaning roses in English gardens but evoking flood water from the river or sea which rises or rose.

I changed cute cars which is alliterative to allow an extra syllable for puffed tiny trains which is both visual, puffing train, and ambiguous, the puffed or exhausted train, stops to let cars overtake. 

The scenes in the films are serious and comic, warm and cold. So is the temperature change in the plane from warm when boarding in Singapore to cold when arriving in London, England.Then I reinserted cute and deleted small, since I already had toys and tiny to convey the idea of small.  I thought of ‘houses like toy teeth, tombstones,’ or ‘neat milk teeth rows’ but I left the sentence unchanged to flow. The clunk is the dropping of the undercarriage; the bump is the plane landing.

In May when we flew back reports in the BBC news were of snow in Scotland the Midlands and even London, where snow did not settle but hailstones fell. Previous weeks had seen a heatwave in London. At the time of writing, May 10 2016, another heatwave.

Waved wheat land. Land is a bit dull. What you see from windows above as you fly over England (or travel by train) is undulating land (unlike the miles of flat land in Holland or what I saw for several days in central America in the nineteen sixties when I took a Greyhound bus) and in England you see leaves and trees and crops waving in the wind

Response to a poem on leaving dusting to write or create

A Rose by any other name would smell as sweet

 but not when you have crumbs under the chair to sweep 

because I tell you here in Singapore, 

if you don't grab a crumb from ants you'll get a hundred more, 

and I'm alas allergic to dust mites, 

a dusty hotel gives me sleepless nights,

 I can compose a poem while I sweep or dust, that glass of water which we share is clean I trust? I would not eat in a dirty café. I promise I'll dust when you come to stay. And proud that all is clean and calm and orderly, we'll sniff sweet flavours, not sneeze in our tea. Please leave your dirty shoes outside the door, sit anywhere, a chair - I cleaned the floor, you'll like my place if you've an allergy - we're both dust mites and gluten free. I hope you like this, which I must rehearse, and whilst I dust I'll write another verse.

By Angela Lansbury April 27 2016. Copyright.