Dress, Dress, comic poem 395 by Angela Lasnbury

Delightful dress

Relieves distress

On my birthday

I looked my best

On other days

I sometimes don't dress

'til just before lunch

I shouldn't confess

Took an hour to prepare

More or less

Keep re-using this picture, 

I shall confess

I practise dressing

Every day

And learned to do it

Many ways

Dressed like a girl

Not like a boy

Not like a robot

But like a toy

Overdressed for work

Undressed for play

Dressed up for night

Dressed down for day

Dress to impress

Dress your best

Hurry up

You look a mess

Dress, fine dress

Toes up to chest

For east or west

Like mother bird in her nest

Dress, dress

I confess

I am half dressed

More or less

Dress foa party

A celebration

A religion

Or a nation

A policeman

Or a nurse

Bandages

Or something worse

Dress as a fairy

Or a witch

Or a dog

Or a bitch

Hire an outfit

Make your own

Split the seams

Lightly sewn

Wear a uniform

Attracting scorn

Attraction pride

Morning suit for a ride

Lots of pockets

Where I hide

Hankies and tampax

Deep inside

Crown it all

With a grand hat

Wear smart shoes

Left on the mat

In the drawers

In a box

Out of season

Winter socks

Clothes for a girl

Clothes for a boy

Dress as you like

More to enjoy.

-ends-

Written Thursday 4th April 2024. Revised Friday 5th 2024. Some people might like the short, snappy first draft of the poem of the day. 

The second version might improve the rhythm, or develop a philosophy, or link one verse with the next or amplify the theme or remove irrelevancies which were stuck in to make a rhyme, when a new, better idea occurs to me later.

Please share links to your favourite posts.

Hello, Santa, Ho, Ho, Ho comic poem 360 by Angela Lansbury

 Santa's in the shopping mall

Santa in the grotto

Nowadays you have to pay

I wonder what's his motto?

Santa's sleigh isin the high street

Singing and ask for money

So he can give to others

Don't you think that's funny?

You don't tell kids it's make believe

In school or in a church

Don't say it's Mum and Dad who love you

They will leave you in the lurch

I don't know what a Iurch is

But we wear our Santa hats

We don't believe but party

Like the geese we're gettig fat

Fancy Dress at Tanglin Club, Singapore.

HOD toastmasters International club, Chantal, bilingual in French and English, wearing a santa hat, Angela Lansbury in a Xmas jumper. Sent from Chantal. Photo from Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

 We wear our Xmas jumpers

The Americans say sweaters

You can buy one in Asda

And read the ho ho letters

Is it wrong to wear a symbol

Who's got rights to green and red?

A pagan, season symbol

A red hat upon my head

Let's just enjoy the great goodwill

Let's not think too much about it

Worrying might make you ill

So don't worry and don't doubt it.

Christmas is the season

Of presents, sales, and cost

Santa is the symbol

Of goodwill he is the boss

A pagan symbol, dark green holly

Americans opt for candy canes

Oh, well, might was well by jolly

Joyeux anniversaire again..

-ends-

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.

Please share links to your favourite poems and posts.

How To Plant A Poem For Action, comic poem number 190 by Angela Lansbury

 Bunched, jumbled words jump in my brain

I sort them into sentences

Space them like trees down my clean page

And decorate new thoughts again

I let the prefixes explain

Recall poets should not complain

And throw out all their dirty words

Like drenching rain down a dark drain

But after each poem's begun

Plant seeds, prune, 'til verses harden

Through wild meadows lay a clear path

To secluded, secret gardens

Thoughts start to flow, start to grow

You do as much as you are able

You think of seeds, uproot a weed

The day's tasks listed like flower labels

Where choruses like trellis grow

And in full sun bright colours glow

End with faint glow like setting sun

You, and the last perfect word, go.

Go to picnic, go to dinner

Go to rest, to drink or party

Go to sweet sleep, resigned to die

Leave behind gardens you started.

-ends-

The poem is a joke about how you wake up muddled in the morning and try to sort out your thoughts day with lists. The joke in the last verse but one is that the last word is short, go, and ends the distraction and inactivity of writing or reading a poem. Then I added the last verse. Go to party, go to sleep, go to die. Prepare to die is less hard but resigned echoes the vowel. Your choice when copying and reprinting. But remember to add by Angela Lansbury.