Poetry

Calling my attempts poetry might be pushing it a bit, but this is where to find it. I apologise in advance.

Monsters

Monsters

Mummy, there’s monsters! They’re under the bed! They wake up at night and they creep. Darling, these monsters are all in your head. Now be a good girl, go to sleep. But mummy, those monsters ARE under the bed. They have eyes that glow green in the dark. Those monsters...

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Don’t Talk to me About Life

Don’t Talk to me About Life

I look back with nostalgia To when fibromyalgia Was merely a good score in Scrabble When getting up from my chair Did not make me swear And I could keep docs away with an apple. When at night I could sleep Pain would not make me weep And I could stand for a while...

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A to Whatever

A to Whatever

I decided to join in with the A to Z blog challenge on a whim. I didn't make it to the end. Here are the silly rhymes I did manage for Nettie's Neuroses: A Humorous look at Phobias. I hope they raise a smile.

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True Romance

True Romance

I only discovered this morning that it was World Poetry Day. This is what I wrote for it. I started out wanting to write a poem about the Glasgow "scramble" when the father of the bride would release a fistful of coins onto the street for the waiting weans to scramble...

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Sauchihall Street Cash Converters

Sauchihall Street Cash Converters

      Good afternoon, Sir. How are you today? Such frightful weather for this time of year. I guess you're wondering what someone like me Is doing in your shop? Let me be clear It's not that times are hard, at least not yet. But everyone could use a...

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Poakits

Poakits

A poem. About pockets. Poakits Ah’m at thone age when a trip tae Brentford Nylons seems a guid idea. No fur purple, brushed nylon sheets that sparked when you and yer man gied it laldy; No fur curtains, two pair wan tae pit up and wan tae chainge wi when they others...

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Writer’s Block

Writer’s Block

[tweetmeme source="nettiewriter" http://www.URL.com] Fresh page, new start Story told from the heart Words fail, don’t fit Throw away what’s writ. Fresh page, start again White space, idle pen Verbs, nouns don’t knit Throwaway what’s writ. Fresh page, another try...

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