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Poem: My Neighbour’s Security Light
My neighbour’s security light shines in my kitchen. It’s saving me electric, but cooking is fraught: With the light going off at inopportune moments My food never tastes quite as good as it ought. I reach for the mixed herbs and, plunged into darkness, I put a good handful in my bolognese I give it…
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Poem: Jumping Frog
Jumping Frog woke up one sunny morn, Stretched upon his lily pad and gave a little yawn. He said to himself, ‘It’s such a lovely day, I’ll hop off into town and so I must be on my way.’ He hugged his toy dog Spot goodbye And set off on his travels underneath a clear…
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Poem: What’s Within
I iron creases from a shirt and think about my skin: You see it creped and wrinkled; you don’t see what’s within. You see my shoulders rounded; you see my face is red; But you’ve got no idea what’s going on inside my head…. I don’t want to do the ironing, wash the curtains or…
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Poem: The Fancy-Dress Party
We’ve just had a fancy dress party – our family and some of our friends – It was really quite funny to see the grown-ups getting dressed up and playing “pretends”. My grandmother came as a teabag, and grandfather came as a bat, And Daddy turned out as King Arthur, while Mummy dressed up as…
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Poem: Building A Wardrobe
My uncles came to stay with me when I got my new pad; They came to do some DIY for which I was quite glad. They put me up some pantry shelves and stood back with great pride; I watched as jars and bottles slowly slid down to one side. I bought a rotary washing…
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Poem: My Home Gym
I built myself a home gym so I could exercise, Replace my fat with muscle and tone my flabby thighs. My bingo wings I’d banish, my posture would improve, My body would be sculpted – how gracefully I’d move! I’d be so fit and agile, a marathon I’d run And maybe then I’d do a…
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Happy Publication Day for Sticky Ends!
We here at McCaw Press are very happy to announce that it’s publication day for Carol Carman’s new book Sticky Ends! A collection of comic poems featuring possessed gnashers, unstoppable shoppers, serial killer brides, crossword fanatics, telly addicts, a lonely school reunion, a bunch of drunks and the world’s worst outing to Blackpool. Carol Carman…
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Memoir poem: The Silence Of Saturday Teatime
Every week my dad would write His Xs in the column: A ritual time-honoured, Almost sacred, always solemn. He diligently worked out – well, I say ‘worked out’, he guessed Which teams would win or lose or draw, Whose score would be the best. On Friday evening at the door The coupon man would be;…
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Poem: Something Amiss in My Engine
There was something amiss in my engine: a new water pump needed, I thought; I booked my car into the garage – for a service, a see-to and sort. The message came back from the garage: your water pump’s fine – working well – And your motor now waits on our forecourt, it’s running as…