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Posts archive for: February, 2012
  • Gillyk will understand ......

    The return of an old favourite of mine

    Breaking Up

    Together we shared many sweet warm moments
    You were always there when I needed you
    You comforted me when days were trying
    You shared my happy moments too
    Like morning dew you quenched my thirst
    You gently kissed my lips when parched
    I ache to feel your firm white body
    And your silhouette so gently arched
    My fingers long to caress your smoothness
    To hold you tightly close to me
    Now shattered pieces are all I cling to
    Since I let you slip so carelessly
    I long to warm my lips once more
    Whilst drinking from your inner self
    But I must go into the world once more
    And find another mug on a far away shelf

    ©Marian Barker

    In memory of my favourite china mug ... gone but not forgotten ~x~

  • Talking about bottoms!.......

    Way back in June 2007 (yes we've been here for ages!!!) Joe Bangles posted the following item on his blog:-

    Firmness Like it Used to Be

    Yes, that was the headline that attracted me to read on, it said, "The solution to the problem of sagging", not for me of course, but I have friends that might need to know.

    It continued, "Allowing flexibility of size" and "Your seat will enjoy a surprising rejuvenation",..

    Turns out that it's a bit of plastic that you put under your sofa cushion.

    I left a comment saying "Does my bum look big in this blog" Almost immediately Joe Bangles challenged me to write a poem. You all know I can't resist a challenge so here's what I wrote:

    Firmness Like it Used to Be

    I saw an advertisement that really caught my eye
    At first I wasnít sure if I should laugh or I should cry
    It said - have you a saggy seat in need of some attention?
    I answered bravely - yes - now that you come to mention

    The salesman said he suggested some surprising rejuvenation
    He thought I should agree to it without further hesitation
    He showed me a bit of plastic allowing flexibility of size
    He said Iíd see a transformation - before my very eyes

    But youíre not a plastic surgeon I shrieked I was aghast
    Is the procedure very dangerous and will the firmness last?
    He said donít worry madam youíre really in good hands
    Just leave your seat to me he did masterfully command

    Iíll fix your saggy bottom it will not take a trice
    Iíll make it look like new again Iíll have it looking nice
    You mean that you can do it now? My confidence was bolstered
    Your seat will have the appearance of being fully re-upholstered

    I beg your pardon sir I said, I started feeling glum
    Youíre going to firm my sofa Ė I thought you meant my bum

    ©Marian Barker

  • It was inevitable ......

    As sure as nightime follows day then this next piece follows on from yesterday's

    My Purple Dream

    I climbed the purple mountain
    And sailed the satin streams
    I picked purple silken flowers
    In my purple land of dreams
    I rode on a purple charger
    A purple plume upon his head
    And travelled through the kingdom
    In my comfy purple bed

    My robe was purple velvet
    My slippers matching hue
    I wore my hair in ribbons
    And they were purple too
    I dined from purple plates
    Drank lovely purple wine
    From purple crystal goblets
    So very, very fine

    And when the purple night
    Returned to morning grey
    I simply closed my eyes
    And continued on my way

    ©Marian Barker

  • Mountain Climbing

    I often talk with my fellow bloggers about triggers. Even a mundane domestic chore can trigger the imagination as is (hopefully) shown below.

    The Purple Mountain

    The purple mountain calls me
    In soothing tones and clear
    ďCome rest your weary head
    Beneath my folds my dearĒ

    So I tiptoe up the staircase
    As the evening shadows fall
    And see the purple mountain
    Reflected there upon the wall

    Without a thought I surrender
    Thereís nothing more to be said
    As I slip beneath the covers of
    The purple mountain I call my bed

    With its contours soft and gentle
    And satin flowing streams
    Soon I find myself enveloped
    In the purple world of dreams

    ©Marian Barker

  • Snow

    Footprints in the Snow

    Snow has softly fallen on the ice cold floor
    I didnít see or hear him tiptoe to my door
    I didnít hear him tapping at the window pane
    I hope he comes a calling tomorrow in the lane

    Iím sorry that I missed him and his cheery voice
    He couldnít stay for long he didnít have the choice
    For it was freezing cold out there in the winter chill
    As the wind made little snow drifts on my window sill

    Perhaps heíll call this afternoon and stay a while for tea
    Iíll leave some tasty titbits right there where he can see
    Just beside the footprints I found outside my door
    Where my lovely little robin called a while before

    ©Marian Barker

  • For Louis ....... 31st January 2012

    A Boy at Eight

    A boy at eight
    Stands tall and straight
    Runs everywhere
    He just canít wait

    His mind is also very quick
    He doesnít ever miss a trick

    A boy at eight
    Is so precise
    Takes great care
    Likes things nice

    A boy at eight
    Collecting money
    Watch him count
    Itís very funny

    He always plays a game to win
    And when he does see him grin

    A boy at eight
    For goodness sake
    Has a green dinosaur
    For his birthday cake

    ©Marian Barker

    cake

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