It's nearly April

 Once again, I will be doing my usual national and world wide poetry month. Or NaPoWriMo as it's called.  

Once again I will probably ignore all the events prompts and do my own theme. Mostly because I don't get this modern poetry.  But with the help of my fans and their own ideas! Goddess help me. I will get some good ideas.

This year the theme may be less long complicated verse or sonnets dedicated to well matured and crumbley cheese, lined in a economic wrapper! And bought in M&S.

To more shortened rhyming nonsense about cheese you would find in the bargain bin at Lidl 

Anyway what ever I do it will be bonkers!

Yogurt

 To the tune, in the navy. By the wonderful village people. This poem is dedicated to Diane "yogurt" Narraway. 

Where can you find real pleasure

In a lovely little measure

Full of goodies, yes it is, upon a spoon

Though some it gives the shudders

As it tends to come from udders

If you like it, well, you'll really like this tune*

We love yogurt

It comes in a little pot

We love yogurt

It's the only thing we've got

We like yogurt

It will have to really do

We love yogurt

With act of just pretending

Of a diet never ending

It says hello look I'm healthy yes I am

Look at least I'm eating fruit

Or a sort of substitute

Though fruity yogurt weighs less than a gram

We love yogurt

It really is a treat

We love yogurt

When there's nothing left to eat

We love yogurt

When the fridge is pretty bare

We love yogurt

It's not something I would share

We love yogurt

I do love the apricot

We love yogurt

Though it tends to look like snot

We love yogurt

It could really help my weight

We love yogurt

Thank god! It's out of date!

*Though probably not

Another message

 So my tablet is also busted so I am using a chums 

Message

 I will be taking part in national poetry month again, so I will be back soon

Glue

 I thought I'd share a poem I found while having a clear out of memories. Written for my late grandmother's old people club, a favourite haunt for her and friends. And a club that I helped out with, making tea, washing up and the odd cuddle.

I think I may have written it in my early 20s, may have tweaked it a bit.

Humpty Dumpty was getting quite old

Join our club! He was told

He heard of fun and joined up gladly

I'm not so fit he said quite sadly

I fall off my wall as I'm not not agile

I find my poor old bodies fragile

So Hilda, ivy and Pauline too

Suggested covering his bum in glue.

January

 January is not a real month

It's the void that starts every year

The lack of joy in the season

To quench all that feeling of cheer

Flush out all the feeling of eating

The feeling of joy you must shred

For diets, fasting and jogging

Replace all of the goodies with dread

The latter, will make resolutions

To just finish the dullest of food

The toffees are getting quite melted

But to bin them, is really quite rude

Moped

 Sorry Marion 😂

Get your moped running

Pelting on the highway

Going more than 30

But only when downhill

Get your moped running

Swerving on the highway

Going less that 20

Because it's now uphill

Mid. Oh you get the idea

In the bleak midwinter

Ozone off the chart

That will be the brussels

Causing methane farts

Midwinter again again

 In the bleak midwinter 

Lots of sales you'll see

Bought it for a tenner

It's now 50p

Midwinter again

 In the bleak midwinter

Queues are all you see

Over stocked on mince pies

Buy ten get one free

Midwinter again

 In the bleak midwinter

Sleet has caused a flood

All the snow has melted

Now we've left with mud

Me Nan

 Me nan came to see me last night

She offered me some advise

Do try and take care

Be alert and aware

when it comes to old Halloween night

Be careful of goblins and demons

Be careful of ghosts coming back

Be scared of the dead

like your great uncle Fred

And your great grandfather called Mack 

My nan she touched me quite fondly

Her hands were like ice and were blue

But nan? I did say

You died just last may

Should I also be scared of you too?

Midwinter

 In the bleak midwinter

Have no place to go

Forgot to pack my shovel

Now I'm stuck in snow

Last Christmas

 Last Christmas I gave you my heart.

Then I died instantly 

Then you gave it away!

In a bag marked 'evidence'

Plant songs

Heard music does well to your plants

So I'll sing a little song

My spider plants been droopy

I hope we'll get along

May hum a few old operas

Or whistle showtime tunes

I'll rap along to country

While playing on teaspoons

My dulcet tones vibrating

While shouting thrash rock

It's gone all green and droopy

My poor old plants in shock