Oh mother...

[Andrew_McP]

Oh mother, where are your laces?
What on earth have you done to your shoes?
I've searched in so many places,
How many pairs can you lose?
I've located a missing umbrella,
A hat, three socks, and your lunch,
I've risked catching salmonella,
When I reached down the bog on a hunch,
I even dared pull out the wardrobe,
Behind which you stash all your treasures,
But a glance told me though I'm no germ phobe
I'd be forced to take desperate measures,
So I called for the dog, who's less fussy,
And I pointed her into the gap,
She looked, but recoiled, and thus she,
Shook your laces right into my lap!
Relief was only short lived though,
And now I must try not to holler,
If your laces were draped round the dog's neck,
What the heck have you done with her collar?!!!

 

[father ted]

Andrew McP

I have only one request....
More please!

 

[Andrew_McP]

Thanks. Sometimes I can still coax a few coherent sentences out of my fingers, and it can be vaguely cathartic. Mostly though, it's pure gibberish. :->

 

[Malalie]

Brilliant!

 

[scattysue]

Love it Andrew - more please when you get the time x

 

[Rolypoly]

Really enjoyed that, very funny.

 

[DollyBird16]

Bravo, encore.

 

[2jays]

Really enjoyed that, very funny.

But oh so sad

Laughter is the best medicine.... when all about you isn’t

xx

 

[Andrew_McP]

File this under "ways to waste half a day while all around you goes to pot".

One Day...

One day I'll miss the squidge of fudge, squirrelled in my shoe,
Yes, I know you didn't do it, it's nowt to do with you,
One day I'll miss the sticky tea, soaking the settee,
Yes, I know it wasn't you, the culprit must be me,

One day I'll miss the insole, absent from my shoe,
Yes I know you didn't take it, that's not what you would do,
One day I'll find the loo roll, in the place where it was left,
Yes, I know you didn't move it, you're not accused of theft,

One day I'll miss the biscuits, crumbled everywhere,
Yes, I know it wasn't you, that rubbed them in your hair,
One day I'll miss the chairs, that move all by themselves,
Yes, I know it wasn't you, that emptied all the shelves,

One day I'll miss the sound of taps, left running, wasting water,
Yes I know you didn't leave them on, I'm sure it was your daughter,
One day I'll miss the anxious hours, refusing medication,
Yes, I know it's not your fault, that I can't handle this vexation,

One day I'll miss the tissues, shredded everywhere,
Yes I know it's not your doing, you're never there to tear,
One day I'll miss the bathroom tasks, that once I thought taboo,
Yes, I know you really weren't involved, when someone misplaced poo,

One day I'll miss the struggle, to get you fed and watered,
Yes I know it wasn't you that wished me, hung then drawn and quartered,
That was just the other girl, the one I never see,
The one who pulls the heads off, every flower bought by me,

One day I'll miss the pacing, leaving tracks throughout the house,
Yes I know you're very busy, and I'm trying not to grouse,
One day I'll miss the banging, when you're grumpy, tired and stressed,
Yes, I know you just can't help it, I must treat it as a test,

But patience isn't infinite, and weariness devours,
The plans we had for managing, these muddled folk of ours,
We set ourselves such lofty goals, hoped to care so well,
But good intentions turned to dust, pave the long, hard road to Hell,

So we count to ten, then ten again, then ten more for good luck,
And we try to remember we, volunteered for where we're stuck,
That's not much consolation, when invisibles abandon,
And it certainly doesn't compensate, for the lost life we had planned on,

But when we rest our heads at night, free to sleep at last,
We know we're just returning, love loaned us in the past,
Yes, nothing's ever easy, if it's genuinely worthwhile,
Despite that it's an honour, easing someone's final mile.
~
One day I'll miss being roused, as I'm lying half asleep,
One day I'll strain to listen though, you're no longer there to weep,
One day I'll miss your company, whoever you've become,
But blummin' heck hang on a mo', yes, I'm coming Mum!

 

[Malalie]

We really needn’t buy a book

of poems to show how

quirky, sad and desperate

are the lives that we live now.


We have our home grown Andrew,

a son who really cares.

Nurtured in our forum -

we have our own Pam Ayres!

 

[Andrew_McP]

we have our own Pam Ayres!

I don't like bumping my own threads, but I can't let your reply sink without a trace. That was really rather good.

In these modern, gender-fluid times I often get a bit confused and twitchy. But there's no doubt that no matter how hard I try to channel my inner Jake Thackray and Ian McMillan, my scribblings always sounds better if I channel them back via Victoria Wood or Pam Ayres. My creative side is definitely a bit trans.

Transgressing all standards of talent and good taste, usually! :->

 

[Andrew_McP]

You sit on the throne, so regally,
But you've been there for hours, and still no pee,
You seem to be so comfortable, perched there on the po,
But goodness knows mother, when the heck will you go?
I'm propping up my eyelids, with thick matchsticks,
But trying to stay awake's, really getting on my wick,
I've tried the running tap, and begging you to piddle,
But all you do is sit there, on the loo and fiddle,
I've given up and helped you, gently back to bed,
But no sooner have you settled, than you're on your feet instead,
Back and forth we trundle, up and down the hall,
But it's half past three, and the novelty, has definitely worn off it all!
Yes, I know you cannot help it, your body lets you down,
Your nervous system lies to you, and UTI confounds,
But boy, I'm only human, and it's tempting on this path,
To give up on the bedroom, and just sleep in the bath!