Tag Archives: humour

Who Shall I Kill Next?

 

 

Betty sipped her coffee hot

And watched the scene below

It was a busy market day

And the crowd was all aglow.

Children were laughing and running

Between the shopping stalls.

Mothers with prams were trying

To manoeuvre makeshift walls

Nearby long-suffering fathers

Were trying to look so cool.

Or at the very least

Not appear the fool.

Betty could see the thieves

Trying to work the crowd

They tried to be unnoticed

Their work was not allowed

Then the Ladies of the Night

Came looking for a score

It looked like easy pickings

As they peaked around a door

Now Betty had a code

That she followed to a T

She could not bring herself

To hurt a child you see

So she would stay away

From the mothers that were there

The fathers on the other hand

Who said life was fair

Though it might be easy.

But it really was a thought.

Men could be the target

She wondered if she ought

She was getting bored.

Somebody had to die.

Should they be deserving

or one who caught her eye

 

The sun was setting for the night

Soon the light would dim

Work was needed to be done

It’s not a silly whim

She heaved a sigh, and flexed her arms

And prepared to take a life.

Perhaps she’d use some poison

Or perhaps just with a knife . . .

. . . Chapter One . . .

A Walk

 

I’m taking my bumblebee for a walk

He likes to drink you see

Floral syrup is his brew

He gets it all for free!

 

I’m taking my Robin for a walk

He flies from tree to tree

It’s hard for me to keep abreast

When Robin’s on a spree

 

I’m taking my butterfly for a walk

He likes to drink each day

Nectar is his beverage

A sip and he’s on his way

 

I love to walk with all my friends

They have so much to say

If only I could understand

Then maybe they would stay

A Blast from the Past

 

A Time For Change ( June 2013)
No I am not talking about changing your politics or changing your underwear . . . although . . . never mind.  I am talking about changing attitudes.    Not everyone has a problem with people who are different, just a notable minority. That process of changing their attitudes is on going and never ending.  Where we can make a huge difference is in ourselves, our attitudes.  Yes we are ambassadors for everyone in a wheelchair but we are also ambassadors to ourselves.

I have often joked that the legs at the end of my hips weren’t mine. They certainly were not acting like we had any kind of relationship. I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t stand and if I wanted to move my foot I had to use my hands to do it.  Ever since I was told that I needed to give myself permission to fail occassionally I have been rethinking my legs.  Because I have no other legs to change to I will have to find a way to get along with the ones I have. As a parent did you ever have a child that would not listen to you, would not obey any rules you laid down? Those without children, did you ever have a dog that refused to come when you called?  Well my errant appendages are like that.  Did you stop loving your child or your dog because of a difference of opinion? No, you found a way to make it work.  I have an arm that is awkward to use.  It doesn’t open properly and I can’t straighten it out fully.  So I do more things with my other arm.  I adapt.  People are capable of adapting to almost any situation it just takes time and effort, and a lot of thought.

I spoke to a man once who had lost one leg to diabetes.  He was inquiring about buying my van.  During the course of the very pleasant conversation I learned that he had just recently lost his leg.  I was surprised.  My illness came on me very slowly over a period of years.  He went from two legs to one in a matter of minutes.  I don’t care how much you prepare for such an event it must have been traumatic. This man was upbeat, laughing, totally in control.  He had made peace with his situation and was in the process of adapting to it.  This man was and is an inspiration to me.  Here I am frustrated with my legs and he is moving on with his life.  I must admit I was a little ashamed of myself.  I can get hung up with such unimportant things.  I am a well-adjusted (sort of), intelligent woman.  I can adjust when I need to, it just takes a little effort.  And perhaps a change of attitude.

 

My Own Song

 

 

I’m singing my own song

And I’m writing it too

Sometimes I’m brilliant

And sometimes it’s poo

 

I don’t care for noise

But the sound of a song

Country, pop or jazz

It just can’t be wrong

 

Classical notes form

A bridge for the ear

All other music

Began I think here

 

The song I am writing

Is dear to my heart

It helps me to focus

And where next to start

 

My past in a word

It simply was great

Love and adventure

Full was my slate

 

My song is not finished

I have years still to write

Experiences to live

The future is brigh

Blank

 

My mind is a blank

I have nothing to say

I have til tomorrow

Oh wait, that’s today!

A promise I made

I just need to keep

My word is my bond

Except when I sleep

Then all bets are off

In my fantasy realm

I’m thin and I’m gorgeous

And I’m at the helm

But awake is the place

Where reality lies

And that is the place

where everyone tries

I’ll do my best

Each day that I can

As long as I’m here

That is the plan