What I find fascinating with poem writing is how much you can cram in in just a few verses. I mean to write about ‘The Visit’ in longhand in detail would have been laborious and either very short or too long in all probability, yet with a poem your thoughts to words flow easily and bar for a few hiccups with suitable rhyming words it is so easy to do, enjoyable in fact. Seems too that everyone can do it and enjoy it. Certainly is very habit forming.
All of those I am currently occupied with
Though a bad head vodka decided to give
Me, as reckless I was with the bottle of grog
Probably I could do with a hair of the dog
The ‘mystery woman’ should take some blame
As it is her house and I’m playing her game
Though she is ruing the application of so much drink
Cos sex isn’t something of which I can think
Temporary abstinence will undoubtedly do her good
I don’t want to spoil her by overusing my w***
I have travelled far to pastures new
Out of the window there is a very different view
There is a bloody big green berry laden shrub
And we just sat down to some fabulous grub
No sign of the maestro appearing with rhyme
Perhaps he’s busy at Christmas time
Maybe tomorrow he’s treat us all
To his fine verses, some short and some tall.
Up to my neck in booze and junk food
Drunk, laughing loud and talking crude
Well, after all, tis Xmas ain’t it
And I’ve just been told off for acting like a bit of a tit
Ah, but I’m having the last laugh cos I don’t give a shit
… I was told off for eating a box of chocs all by myself .
Why does chocolate taste so damn good - just rude?
I can eat bar after bar and box after box, depending on my mood
I luvs it without a care in the world and shrug at any sort of restraint
It goes down so well with a cold glass of something strong - I sure ain’t a saint
My only cause for concern is when I attempt to dress once again in a skin tight jean
Out of my pjs I have to force myself - hell I once was so lean
Oh f*** it a diet I can go on soon as I want if not tomorrow
Just one more bar or box will not add too much sorrow
Too much Vodka, too many chocs, whatever will become of us ?
Today we need to buy some stuff but that may involve catching a bus
Is it worth it ? I ask myself … do we deserve to be rude in health
Or slob around in nightwear grand and eat the trash which I put in the can ?
I found this JEM, writtn by WW Skeats, That lately grew its fragrant stem on;And next, to give her pleasure more range,I offered her a juicy orange.And nuts, she cracked them in the door-hinge.[
You certainly know your stuff RJ, is there nothing that has escaped your keen eye for literature, you are indeed a great man with words and long may you continue to reveal the fruits of your knowledge so that we may all benefit.
"There is a man from welsh Wales,
Who tells such extraordinary tales,
But I think it’s the whiskey that makes him so frisky
And put too much wind in his sails.
.
. Does you good for sure 
.
