Congratulations, turnip. What a great tale. Mine has a sporty theme too - but I'm not doing any running about. I am sitting here scoffing a large bag of aero bubbles.

Today’s the day that England play,
Against the Welsh - a battle,
And husband, Mike, is in position,
To monitor each tackle.

Rugby is his passion,
The air will soon be tense,
As annoyance and exasperation,
Gather round England’s defence.

There will be a lot of shouting
In the front room of our house,
Both referee and players
Get no mercy from my spouse.

I once bought him a dolly,
No! Not that sort you fool!
You could rip its arms and legs off,
If the ref. missed a broken rule.

Mike will scream with delight when they score a try,
And if Wales look like a defeat,
But for points scored by the Welsh men,
He’ll hurl abuse from the edge of his seat.

I would demonstrate his language,
Write down what he will say,
But I am far too much a lady,
And I’m sure you can guess anyway.

If you came to visit this afternoon
You’d be offered a whisky or beer,
But one word against the English team,
You’ll end up with a thick ear.

You could join the dog in his basket,
Where a missile unlikely to land,
But I will be there every time the Welsh score
With a daffodil in each hand.


Lin
xx

(I always support Wales at Rugby)

(The whole bag of aero bubbles has gone!)

Turnip I loved your poem and a terrific last line!

thanks Lin and Bogman. I'd say more but its 2.14 am and I feel as though i've run up a mountain!

Sorry folks darker one

Soul Walker

I am the Soul Walker
The seer of pain
Even disguised I can see it plain
The smell of your fear is sweet and drenched in sweat
I inhale its delight and swallow it whole.

Maybe when we meet me there’s something you can’t explain
Thinking have met before? isn’t this insane
We have had encounters in the dead of the night
I have been in your dreams before
I’ve felt the fright that binds your might

Draining your anguish been doing it for years
For I am the soul walker Vampire of your Id
Succubus of your terror of which you’ll not be rid
Tonight I will visit you taking on your fears I am the soul walker
Until in the light you demand your right
To be whole and unmolested

Too deep for me to understand,
A simple soul I am,
Long words and twisted meanings
As bad as sticky jam!
They confuse and tie me up in doubt,
Can’t trust my brain at all,
If somebody is hurting here,
Will I recognise their call?
Words must be straightforward
For me to grasp and know,
Or response that I can offer
Will always be as slow.
Plain English is the way for me,
Don’t wrap your words and hide
So that when I read, I’ll understand
Your meaning, well applied!

Lin
xx

Bogman
Is this the one you remember?

The air is blue in our house
When England play rugby!
Even a rip-apart-referee dolly
Can’t stem the tide and torrent of abuse
Shouted from armchair sideline.
It starts earlier than the game,
Pacing up and down,
General feeling of unrest, no calm just storm!
Edge of seat kick off.
Cover your ears!

HE WAS OFF-SIDE

Dog raises sleepy eye-lid,
Snuggles deeper in his bed.
A sharp piece of barbed wire
Divides the room,
Sparks fly at frequent intervals and
The house holds its breath.

FOR ****’s SAKE!

We look at each other – the dog and me!
Sometimes yells of delight
End in whoops of triumph
And we breathe easy – for a moment.
We know that eventually grey mist will fall
And strangle the throat of our smiles.
Pray for a win so the shopping can be done!

Lin
xx

Apologies to BJS
My poem above about not understanding does not relate to your poem Soul Walker (although, actually, it is much different to your other poems)!
It relates to a competition poem I had just read.
When I re-read this page it seemed as though I was referring to your poem which immediately preceded mine.

I hope you understand this garbled message!

Lin
x

Lin I hope you like this one!

A Gift

A gift received celebration!
On birthday and other occasions
From your kin and relations

But those that hit the bull
Are those come with thought that’s full
From those wh0 stood and paused
Reflecting on you and yours

Choosing a gift with great care
Bringing joy, so you walk on air
For those who do such a favour
Your kindness and thought I’ll always savour

A gift is never bad! if intended to make you glad
To all who contemplate I send my thanks the thought was great!

That is the one......imagine remembering it after nearly a year....speaks well of your ability.


I must say that I am very glad that I was not in the position that BJS found himself in when you posted your critique! I would love to read the one that got you so fired up. I admire the fact that he has posted again so soon because if it had been me I would still be a gibbering wreck.Did you ever have to use the cane?

By the way I love Lin's two poems on the Rugby. I would love to be a fly on the wall!!